The Wedding Date
by luv2read312
Summary: Neurotic, Control-freak, too nice, Cammie is going to her sisters wedding in London, which will surely be a disaster. Her ex-fiancé is the best man, and she's got no date—something her mother constantly nags her about. So what's a desperate girl to do? Hire a date from a male escort service, that's what. (All normal, OOC)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, I'm author of Mr. and Mrs. Goode 1 and 2. Here's my new story that I'm working on (For the fans of my first two fanfictions: I'm still working on the sequel and plan on updating soon) Hope you like it!**

Chapter 1

 _Cammie and Guest_

 _Mr. and Mrs. Joe Solomon_

 _request the honor of your presence_

 _at the marriage of their daughter_

 _Belinda Anne Morgan_

 _to_

 _Thomas Cade Johnson_

 _On Saturday, 11_ _th_ _May, at 1:00 P.M._

 _At_

 _Kew Gardens London_

 _RSVP_

The invitation came just in time to ruin my weekend. It wasn't a surprise. When the prodigal daughter is getting married, you don't have to wait for the invitation to find out. If your mother was anything like mine, everyone was told the millisecond after the proposal. Most of Bexhill knew because my mother put an announcement in the local paper. I wouldn't put it past her to have announced it to all of England if she could've figured out how to use anything other than Internet explorer.

The words "and guest" almost appeared in bold.

I got the call later from her—the dreaded "I'm writing up the placement cards and was wondering if I needed to add _someone_?" Since the engagement, my mother has been nagging me about bringing a date. At the engagement party she politely reminded me,

"You know, dear, your younger sister is getting married before you. Now you know I'm not old-fashioned, but people in this town like to make a big fuss out of things like that. I'm not saying you _have_ to bring a date, but women who show up at weddings alone give off a desperate vibe. And I just wouldn't want you to lose face. Especially since that wretched Josh is going to be there."

Ah yes. My ex-boyfriend Josh—correction ex- _fiancé_ Josh. It was the usual story. We dated through high school and college. When we graduated he proposed. I was excited. My mother was absolutely ecstatic. We were engaged for a couple months when out of the blue he wanted to break it off. He claimed we had become a "comfortable habit." But, since Josh was as good at lying as a five-year-old child, I knew at once something else was behind the sudden break.

Or rather _who_.

I had met DeeDee at a party thrown by a friend of Josh's a couple weeks prior to the breakup. She had that all-American girl look that made her perfect for beer commercials or stealing your man. When we met, she was sickly sweet, like poisoned honey. It was obvious how into Josh she was.

Later he accused me of being rude to her, which I retorted with some snippy comment about her being all over him. He assured me he had no interest in her. And like a fool, I believed it.

"Mother, it's been two years. I'm over it."

That was mostly the truth. I had no residual feelings for Josh, but that didn't mean I wanted him to see me as anything but happy and better off without him. And of course, I needed to appease my mother, who just couldn't understand why I was still single.

"Dear, if there's anything you need to admit to me, feel free. You know I'll love you no matter what." My mother's subtle way of asking if I was a lesbian. Honestly, she wouldn't care if I brought home a convicted criminal as long as she could say that both of her daughters were married off. "Are you sure you're all right? I know the Josh thing happened a while ago, but if you're still pining for him…"

"Actually, mother, I've got a boyfriend," I said suddenly into the phone. I winced. Those were words I could not take back.

"WHAT?" she screeched. I moved the phone away from my ear. "Honey, why didn't you tell me sooner? What's his name? What does he do?" Her questions continued, while I frantically tried to make up a man. I glanced at my magazine and said the first name I saw.

"His name is Lawrence." _Lawrence? Was I dating a guy from the 1950s?_ "Mother, I have to go. You'll meet him at the wedding," I said, not able to think of a decent lie to follow up my colossal one.

"You can't just drop news like that and hang up. I need details to tell everyone! Where'd you meet him?"

My mind was completely blank.

"At the dentist," was the first thing that came to mind. _The dentist? Really, Cammie? That's the best you could come up with?_

"The dentist?" my mother repeated, confused. I didn't blame her. I put my face in my hands and decided to finish off the horrible lie.

"Yes, he's my dentist." I could practically hear my mother grinning.

"You do have a thing for those doctor-types don't you? Oh I can't wait to spread the news!"

She was referring to the fact that my ex-fiancé was on track to be a doctor. In fact, he probably only had a year left of medical school. My stomach turned as I remembered the catch I lost to that Bitchface DeeDee.

"Mother, please don't make a deal of it. We've only been dating a short while."

"Why would I ever do that?" she asked innocently. "You know how much I detest gossip."

 _Just as much as a rich man detests his wealth I'm sure_.

"Anyway, dear. He will be coming to the wedding then? Oh this is marvelous. You two will stay with Joe and I, of course. I'll have your old room prepared. I can't wait to meet him. _Oh_. I must go now. The caterer is on the other line. Goodbye, dear."

I wanted to curl up in misery and perhaps drown myself in vodka. Why did I have to invent a fake boyfriend? What crazy person does that?

Just then my roommate Macey walked through the door of our apartment. Her black hair was styled in a sleek ponytail. Her eye makeup and eyebrows were so on point you would've thought a professional did them. She wore a cream colored skirt with a slit up the back and a silky black top that screamed elegance and expensive. She constantly looked as if she had her life together. A look I wish I could master.

She took one look at my disheveled hair and bleak state and asked,

"What's wrong, Cammie?"

I told her the story, leading up to the worst lie in history of lies to my parents. And I mean worse than the one where I told them a deer rammed our car when really it was me who took it without permission and hit a mailbox. At least that lie didn't involve me having to produce a man from thin air.

"Well, that's quite a predicament," Macey said, as she poured both of us a glass of wine. I'd have preferred something stronger. "Why don't you just ask a friend or colleague to go with you," she suggested.

"And suffer utter humiliation by telling someone I am too desperate to find my own boyfriend? No thank you."

"Why don't you ask Jonas?"

"Ask me what?" Jonas came out of the room with Liz in tow. Both of them wore pink cheeks and happy smiles that said "we just spend the day lounging and doing the dirty."

Liz was my other roommate. She and I had been friends since high school, so she knew my mother's antics pretty well. When I was fifteen, I attended a women's boarding school called Gallagher Academy in Virginia. My mother was headmaster of the school at the time. Then at the beginning of my junior year, a Mr. Joe Solomon wanted to enroll his daughter Belinda in the school, but she was rejected. Belinda's GPA wasn't high enough for admission. However, Solomon wasn't someone to take no for an answer, especially since he was a CEO at a multinational corporation. He inquired about a meeting with my mother. My mother didn't normally make accommodations for rejected students' parents, but considering his offer to donate millions to the school, she agreed to meet.

To make a long story short, sparks flew followed by a couple months of courting. Then a wedding was announced, and Joe was my new stepdad. I loved Joe. He was the only sane person in my family, although from time to time I question his judgment of choosing to be a part of my whacked-out family. And with Joe came Belinda—my stepsister.

The thing about Belinda was: she was everything I wasn't. She was petite and blonde, like a porcelain doll from the Victorian age. She had the face of an angel and wanted to do all that debutant crap my mother got all excited about. She was the daughter my mother never had.

Not to say I didn't get along with Belinda or resent her in any way. I was the older one, so it was my responsibility to make her feel comfortable. And she always needed coddling. She was one of those girls who'd cry at the drop of a hat. And not ugly normal-people crying. Tears would leak from her glossy blue eyes and travel down her perfectly cream skin. Any time she cried, the hearts of everyone around her would break, and they'd all jump at the chance to make her feel better.

After graduating from Gallagher Academy I attended Vassar in New York. Joe and my mother waited until Belinda graduated Gallagher before retiring to England where Joe grew up. Belinda spent a few years partying and wasting her trust fund in the states before heading to England where she settled down with Tom. And you know the rest: there's now a wedding.

"Cammie needs a date to her sisters wedding," Macey said, bringing me back from reminiscing.

"That would work if my mother didn't already know Jonas," I said bitterly, finishing my wine.

Jonas and Liz had been a couple for years. Last Christmas, they came to England with me to keep me company so my family didn't drive me insane. It was a good plan, until my mother's craziness tripled because my best friend had a steady boyfriend and I didn't.

"I'd give you my boyfriend, if I had one," Macey said. She was probably the only woman in New York City who didn't give a damn she was twenty-five and single (maybe not the _only_ one, but she was the only one I knew). She was an up-and-coming lawyer at a pretentious law firm that only dealt with the richest of clients. Most men were intimidated by her success (and her wealth coming from daddy's trust fund) so she stayed happily single. She always said, "All I need is my Visa and MasterCard to keep me happy."

I claimed my job kept me too busy to find a man. This was partly true. After graduating from Vassar, I opened an art gallery on 5th. In fact, that's how I met Macey. Macey's firm represented several of the artists in my gallery. We became instant friends. We ended up living together when I complained to her about living above a noisy club. Since her company pays for her penthouse on the Upper East Side, she insisted I live with her. I asked Macey if Liz could take the spare third room when her dorm in Colombia (she's getting her PhD in astrophysics) flooded because some dumbass undergraduates hit the emergency showers with a Lacrosse ball. And that's how we all ended up living together.

"Why don't you tell your mother he dumped you," Liz said, spooning a mouthful of nutella in her mouth. I ignored the ping of jealousy in my stomach. Liz was actually a stick, despite the fact she eats more than an athletic teenage boy. Meanwhile, when I stray from my low-carb, fat-free diet (which happens all the time), I feel like a beached whale.

"Won't that make me look—"

"Pathetic. Sad. Like your mom will lose all hope of you ever getting married," Macey finished for me.

"Yup, that was the arsenal of adjectives I was going for," I commented dryly.

"Okay. Dump him then," Liz said, through another mouthful of nutella. She dropped some on a student's test she was grading. Liz was working as a professor of physics while getting her PhD. "Shoot!" She tried to wipe it off.

"That won't help the whole wanting to make Josh incredibly jealous," I said. I bit my nail, a terrible habit that my mother constantly nagged about.

"I thought you were over Josh," Jonas called from the couch. He was reading the magazine I discarded earlier.

"I am," I clarified. "But, he's going to be the best man at the wedding. And if I show up alone he's going to think that I haven't found anybody better. Plus, my mom is going to be down my throat the whole time concerned that I'm going to burst into tears every five minutes." A headache was starting to form, and I massaged my temples.

"Um, here's an idea." Jonas handed me the magazine opened up to an ad.

"Jonas, this is an ad for an escort agency!" I said, taking a second glance. Macey and Liz looked over my shoulder.

The magazine had a picture of a man dressed in a tuxe. He wore a cunning smile and bedroom eyes. Under the man a caption read:

 _Got an important occasion, but you're missing that one vital accessory? You've chosen the perfect dress, the perfect shoes, the perfect jewelry, why not choose the perfect man?_

"This is ridiculous. I can't hire a hooker to take me to my sister's wedding!" I exclaimed, pushing the magazine aside. It was still within reach though.

" _Escort_ ," Jonas corrected.

"What if the guy is some crazy psycho?" I exclaimed, still trying to find reasons why it was a horrible decision.

Liz was scanning the article. She read, "'All the gentlemen have been vetted and given complete background checks. Each gentleman is held to extreme standards.'"

"This would make me look so desperate," I claimed.

"You _are_ desperate," Macey added.

"Guys, this is ludicrous!"

"Not really," Macey said. I glared at her. She shrugged. "It's basically hiring an actor. The name is just a little different."

They all looked at me expectantly. Jonas pushed the ad closer to me. I glanced at the smiling face—a face that said, "Don't worry. Everything is going to be okay."

"This is so going to blow up in my face," I sighed, as I dialed the number for the agency.

 **Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Me: So you're name is, erm, Dermot Mulroney?**

 **Dermot: Yeah, it's actually Irish—**

 **Me: Ah huh. Could you hold on a sec. *** **takes out camera* *snaps a picture* okay, continue.**

 **Dermot: okay… well. Anyway I heard you're doing another crossover movie/book story, so I'm here to lend a hand.**

 **Me: Oh yes, I'd love for your hand to be lended. *winks***

 **Dermot: uh, okay. So do you own any of this?**

 **Me: Nope the rights of the character names go to Ally Carter and bits of the plot goes to** _ **The Wedding Date**_ **people. Oh I almost forgot, you're going to need to take your shirt off.**

 **Dermot: Why?**

 **Me: Hey, I don't make the rules.**

 **Hope you guys enjoy!**

 **Chapter 2**

"I hate this. I really _really_ hate this."

I was pacing the living room of our apartment while simultaneously throwing back Tums. The chalky fruit flavor gave my stomach something to other than contract on itself. Macey was on the couch doing her toenails, while also studying up on a case.

"Would you relax already? It's going to be fine. You picked out the perfect guy. And the girl at the agency was very reassuring."

The girl was very reassuring. She made it seem like such a normal transaction like ordering takeout. She also assured me about the level of professionalism I'd get from the client—I made sure she knew that I wasn't looking for a good romp in the sac. I just needed someone who my mother would love and would delve up the green monster in Josh.

When I went down to the agency, they sat me down in front of a large screen, which played video profiles of the escorts. The guy I picked was in his late twenties. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and basically looked like a golden retriever. He wasn't extremely sexy, but attractive enough that people would believe we were a couple. I couldn't walk in with some model and have everyone whisper about how it seemed weird I pulled someone so out of my league. This had not sat well with Macey.

"You're an idiot, Cammie. A gorgeous idiot." She was always complimenting me on how my hair always seemed to look as if I just got off a runway. I thought she was delusional. I was as plain as could be. I wasn't hideous or hard on the eyes, but I certainly wasn't going to be making my debut as a Victoria Secret model anytime soon. I just couldn't seem to lay off the Oreos.

"What if someone recognizes him at the wedding? They'll go up to him and be like 'hey, bud. You still prostituting yourself?' Then everyone will know, and I'll be forced to drown myself in the ocean," I said. I could really use about three shots of vodka, but I chewed up two more Tums instead.

"No one will recognize him," Macey assured.

I bit my nails. That wasn't even the worst scenario I could imagine.

"What's the guy's name again?" Macey asked. She was fanning her case file to dry her nail polish.

"Collin Davis. He used to be in real estate before the crash. Now he's in need of money," I responded. It felt less weird when the guy needed a legit reason for escorting. Not that I had any disrespect towards the business. People could make their money however they like as long as no one got hurt. I just couldn't stand the thought of picking some guy who thought he was God's gift to women and that's why he chose a job in that field. I didn't need some proverbial flirt who did nothing but make googly eyes in hopes I'd fish out the extra cash for some sexy time.

I glanced at the clock. It was time to go meet Collin for drinks. We had agreed to meet up and corroborate our lies. We were both too busy and the wedding was in one week. We wouldn't get to see each other until catching our plane at JFK. I was relieved when he agreed to meet, and he sounded very delightful over the phone. If he was as smooth as his voice, we'd have no problems with my family liking him.

I said my goodbyes to Macey.

"Okay, but if you're not home in two hours, I'm going to call the police," she shouted before I slammed the door. Apparently she wasn't as at ease about this business as she let on.

(page break)

I was rushing, throwing things into suitcases hoping they matched. I stayed late at the gallery last night and accidently slept through my alarm. I had about an hour until my flight left and I wasn't nearly packed. This just tripled my stress level. I should've been at the airport, through security, and sitting in the terminal thinking about every scenario of how this could all go horribly wrong.

Drinks with Collin went well. He was sweet and charming but not fake like some overstuffed assface. He seemed to understand my predicament. Apparently, his mother was as crazy as mine and to top it off he even had a fiancé who left him for another man. It was as if he was created for my situation. And what was really great was: I wasn't remotely attracted to him. This was another fear of mine. That I'd secretly fancy him and it'd be so obvious to him, and I'd look desperate.

My cell rang. The collar ID lit up as "Mother." I didn't have time to deal with her antics, but if it was something important I'd better pick up. I squeezed the phone between my ear and shoulder while frantically looking for my other black satin heel.

"Oh Cammie dear, you're not at the airport yet? I thought your plane left soon…" she sounded anxious, which only made me more anxious.

"I'll be fine, mother. I've got plenty of time. Is that all you called to say?"

"No actually. I need you to talk some sense into your sister. She's rather upset about the honeymoon details. Thomas wants to take her on this very expensive safari in Africa, but she's too afraid about the bugs."

I wanted to hurl my phone. If my only problem was what exotic place I was honeymooning I'd be the flesh form of happiness. But, I didn't want to upset my mother.

"Yeah, put her on." _Where was that damn shoe?_

"Cam-cam? It's me," her voice squeaked over the phone. I winced at the nickname.

"Belinda, mother told me you're being ridiculous about the honeymoon. What's wrong with—ah ha!" I had found my shoe.

"Oh Cam-cam, you know how I hate bugs. And a couple of the nights we're going to be camping out under the stars. Can you imagine all those crawlies?" She shuddered.

I moved the phone from my ear so I didn't actually scream at her.

"Belinda," I said, in a strained patient tone. "Africa is beautiful and romantic. I'm sure the bugs won't bother you."

"Oh I don't know. Maybe I'll just tell Tom I want to go somewhere else. He's got his heart set on it though, so he might be hard to persuade."

Typical Belinda. If she wasn't happy with something, it didn't matter who was. But, I suppose it was also her honeymoon. She should be happy with it as well.

"What are you doing the other days?" I asked.

"Oh we're staying at this extravagant hotel."

I sighed. Belinda was living the dream. Her husband was not only kind and caring, but also he was rich to boot. Their engagement story was a fairy tale. He took her to this bridge in Italy at sunset. The ring was an elegant princess cut that probably was on display at the Smithsonian at some point.

"Then Belinda, maybe you should do what he wants for half the week and what you want for the other half," I suggested. I closed my suitcase, and the clothes oozed out like jam in a doughnut. I jumped on it, hoping that extra weight I'd been carrying around since Christmas would finally come in handy.

"Mhmm I don't think so," she giggled. "If you'd just talk to him that'd be great."

I almost slipped off my suitcase.

"You want me to talk to him!" I exclaimed.

"Would you, Cam-cam? I'm just so busy and all planning this wedding."

"Uhh."

"Pleaseeeeeeee?"

"Sure," I sighed. _You could never say no to Belinda._

"Thank you so much, Cam-cam. Love you! Bye!"

The phone dropped on my bed. Suddenly, I wanted to crawl under the covers and forget about this whole wedding ordeal. But, I still had packing to finish, a plane to catch, and a relationship to fake.

It took another ten minutes, and I was rushing toward the door. Just as I was throwing my phone in my carry-on bag, it rang. I didn't have time to deal with any more distractions, so I turned it off and threw it in my bag.

I had said my goodbyes earlier. Macey had wished me luck. Liz and Jonas were actually coming to the wedding since they both knew Belinda from school. They were taking a later flight after Liz's 3 o'clock class. They were going to miss the rehearsal dinner, lucky bastards.

The drive to the airport took about fifteen minutes. Security took another twenty. So, I was sitting at my seat downing champagne with fifteen minutes left to spare. Still, I couldn't relax the permanent knots in my shoulders.

 _Where is Collin?_

I'd be a fraction less distressed if Collin was sitting in his seat rehearsing the lies I fed him. I kept glancing behind me at seat 3B. He should be here any…

All of a sudden, a gorgeous man distracted me. He wore a slim-fitting black suit that screamed expensive. His jaw was so square that I was sure God had hand-chiseled it himself. He had short brown hair, stylishly gelled. His eyes were a specific shade of green like the color when a beam of sunlight shines on a leaf. He walked down the isle like he owned the place and sat… right in 3B!

"Excuse me," I said suddenly. "You're in my date's seat." _Might as well start the lie now._

He flashed me a million-dollar smile that was sure to make every girl within a thirty-foot radius faint. I'm ashamed to say I fluttered a little.

"I'm your date."

He held out his hand. Nice firm hands.

"Zachary Goode: you're new male escort.

 **You guys didn't really think I'd make the male escort anybody other than Zachary Goode, right? Any please review! The feedback is SO important to me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dermot: So this Zachary Goode, is he attractive?**

 **Me: Oh yeah. Even though he's a fictional character created by Ally Carter, he's super attractive.**

 **Dermot: Are Cammie and him going to fall in love?**

 **Me: I guess you'll have to read and find out?**

 **Dermot: Well, if you'd update faster…**

 **Me: I'll probably have the next chapter uploaded soon. I'm so psyched about all the people reviewing and following my story. It's so inspiring!**

 **Dermot: Good. Hey can I put my shirt on now?**

 **Me: …no**

 **Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!**

 **Chapter 3**

"What?" I blurted, at a loss for words. _This could not be happening._

He looked confused. His eyebrows furrowed. He had really nicely shaped eyebrows. I've never noticed a man's eyebrows before. I wondered if he waxed or if God blessed him with perfect eyebrows.

"Didn't the agency call you about the switch?"

"I turned my phone off before I left the house," I said. I could've kicked myself. This was ruining my plan. And there was nothing a control-freak hated more than their plan being messed up. "This is absolutely horrible." I slumped down in my seat. He sat down next to me.

"Relax. Everything is going to be okay," he soothed. For some reason this made me even more agitated.

"No it's not. Now I have to fill you in with everything, and you've only got a couple hours to remember everything. Plus, the other guy was… and you're…"

I grabbed a flute from the flight attendant carrying a tray of champagne. I downed it in one gulp as Zachary looked at me as if I was crazy. I could only imagine what the agency had said to him.

" _...she seemed a little neurotic—I mean she did make up a man for a fake relationship. I should probably warn you that women like this need very tactful handling._ "

I relaxed my features so they didn't look pained. "Anyway, you're new name is Lawrence Patensky. You're a dentist. In fact, you're my dentist. We started dating about three months ago. Um… that's about all I told my mother. But, here's some things you should know about my mother: she used to be a headmistress at an all girls boarding school, which means she's the best lie detector out there, so _this_ has to be convincing. If she finds out I've made up a guy and am _paying_ for him to be my date… God, I don't even want to think about it." I glanced at Zachary. He looked causal and as if he didn't want to run away from my craziness, but I'm sure he's just an incredible actor.

"Don't think about the worst case scenario. You'll just get unnecessarily upset. Look, there's no need to worry. You're family will think we're totally in love." He smiled at me and made me feel like all my problems were disappearing.

"They're not the only ones we need to impress." I filled him in about the whole Josh situation. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I almost ripped it from his grasp. It was surely wet and cold like a thawed chicken. Zachary didn't seem to mind.

"Josh will regret he ever let you go." He flashed me another smile and did that smoldering thing with his eyes. My throat suddenly became very dry. I pulled my hand away. "So I'm assuming we met at the dentist office?" he asked.

I could see he was hiding a smirk, the bastard. He obviously was amused by the whole situation, and me swooning at his every word only added to his ego. I had to keep my wits about me. If he thought I was desperate, he was going to be expecting a little extra for something I was _not_ going to pay for.

"Yes. You're my dentist. I have the best teeth out of all your clients." I flashed him my best smile—both cheeky and sweet. It was perfected in my bathroom mirror when I was sixteen. He chuckled. "You're charming and sweet—the Mary Poppins among men, Mr. Perfect in Every Way."

"I can do that," he said, with a little too much confidence I thought. But that's why I was paying him an arm and a leg. "So if we've been dating for 'three months,' I guess terms of endearments are in order. Love, pumpkin, babycakes—which do you prefer?"

I eyed with a modicum of resentment. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? My life is a source of amusement to you?"

"I've spent more boring weekends," he responded with a smirk. "So what's your sister's name? And the groom's, while you're at it."

"Belinda and Tom. He's handsome, and Belinda is like a model, so they make a great couple." This wedding was going to be beautiful, but I was dreading it all the same. I glanced out the window. The plane hadn't left yet—I could still escape.

"Are you a nervous flyer?" Zach asked.

"Why do you ask?" I looked over at him.

"You're clutching your seat with a death grip. Can I get you a drink… or an Ambien?"

"No, no. I'm fine really," I responded. I let go of my armrests and grabbed the Sky magazine. I flipped through it casually.

"Cammie, why don't you tell me what's really bothering you? We could prepare our defenses," he said.

I so wasn't about to delve into all my greatest insecurities. I was a calm, collected woman. Suddenly, a very attractive flight attendant smiled towards Zachary. She completely passed over me as a threat, which caused a flood of anxiety.

"What if someone recognizes you? What if I slip up and call you Zachary? What if my mother separates us, asks us both the same question, then cross-references our answers, and they don't match up? Or what if people take one look at us and realize we're faking it?" I said.

"Just close your eyes for a second," he said. He lightly held my hand again, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

"What? Um, actually I'm not a big fan of closing my eyes. I mean I do when I'm sleeping. And sometimes in the shower 'cause water and shampoo can get in them—"

"Close your eyes, Cammie," he said more sternly. It wasn't harsh, but his tone made me obey. The world was dark. I could hear the light beeping of the attendant buttons, chatter of the people around me, suitcases being stuffed into overhead bins, and the sound of Zachary breathing. I'm sure he could feel my pulse racing as he held my hand. "The world isn't out to get you. You don't need your mother's affirmation or your ex's jealousy to prove to yourself how amazing you are. Everything is going to work out because you're in control."

His words flowed like hot honey. He was so close I could smell his the soap and the musky scent of his skin. I opened my eyes. His emerald eyes pinned me, and I couldn't look away. 

"Wow," I breathed. "You're worth every penny."

The spell was broken. He let go of my hand and leaned back in his seat. I placed my shaky hand in my lap.

"You should probably get some sleep. I assume you didn't get any last night?" He glanced at my face. I frowned and pulled out my compact mirror. My reflection showed a face with crazed eyes and dark under eye circles. I closed the compact.

"Well, I was up all night planning on how everything could go wrong," I said a tad defensively.

I wasn't going to go to sleep. I wasn't the most delicate sleeper. I liked to toss and turn, and by toss and turn I mean throw my extremities around like I'm being electrocuted. Not to mention I'm either waking up with my mouth open and drool dribbling down my chin or with my butt in the air like I'm doing a mix between downward dog and child's pose.

Instead I pulled out an art magazine and began flipping through the pages. I was tapping my feet and humming.

Zachary sighed.

"Is something wrong, Zachary?" I asked nonchalant.

"Yes. Don't call me Zachary," he said. "I prefer Zach. Also, you're jitteriness is hard to ignore." He glanced around. "Here's an idea. Why don't we practice being a couple?"

I put the magazine down. I didn't understand what he meant.

"It might help you relax if we do a test run before your sister's wedding," he explained. "Like this: excuse me." The flight attendant rushed over smiling. And if I wasn't mistaken, more of her shirt's buttons were undone than before. "Could you get me and my girlfriend two cokes?"

The flight attendant's smile dropped a fraction. She glanced at me and I gave her a poisoned honey smile.

"Honey, you know how I'm trying to watch my figure," I said, lightly stroking his arm. The flight attendant was holding back a scowl. "I'll take a diet coke."

"I just don't think there's anything wrong with your body," he said, looking at me with a tender expression. "In fact, I love it." Even though we were just acting, I suddenly wished I had someone who would tell me how amazing I looked whenever I put myself down (Macey and Liz don't count because best friends have to say that stuff). However, I gave him the same googly eyes he was giving me.

"Right away, sir," the flight attendant said, obviously wanting to escape our gross love fest.

"See?" Zach said. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

"Yeah, I guess." I still wasn't convinced.

"Now, go over to the bathroom and talk to the person waiting. Act like we're in love. Wait are we in love?" Zach asked.

"Yes. We're in love." I got up and headed to the bathroom. It was going to be hard to convince my mother I was in love with a stranger, but I couldn't bring somebody I wasn't serious about to my sister's weekend wedding hoopla.

I engaged in small talk with the woman waiting for the restaurant. I wasn't sure how to casually bring up a semi-serious relationship I was faking. Fortunately, she asked,

"Who is that handsome man who keeps checking you out?"

I glanced and saw Zach watching us. Probably trying to gage how much of a horrible actress I was. He smiled and winked at me.

"That's my boyfriend," I said. The word felt funny on my tongue.

The woman whistled. "You should send God a bottle of wine or something as a thank you."

I laughed. "Yeah he's great."

"How long have you two been dating?"

Our conversation lasted a couple more moments until the bathroom was open and she left. I used the bathroom after her and then headed back to my seat. Zach was looking at the art magazine.

"This piece is stunning," he said showing me the picture. I blushed. It was an article about my art gallery, and the picture was of a piece I had actually made myself. I told him so. He raised his eyebrows, impressed. "What got you into art?"

The story was a long one. I always loved art. When I was younger I used to make sculptures out of play-doh and put them in the sun so they'd harden. Gallagher Academy was mostly a liberal arts boarding school, so I pursued my interest there. That's where I had made my first sculpture, the one that was on display in my art gallery. I've had many offers to buy it, but this one had sentimental value.

"Why was it so special?" Zach asked. He was either actually interested or feigning interest.

"Um, you know. It just was to me," I said, avoiding the topic. I never told anybody my inspiration for that piece, and it was going to stay that way.

"So you were a Gallagher girl then?" he said, with a smirk like he knew something I didn't.

"What's it to you?" I asked. I was very protective of the Gallagher Academy. I grew up there, made the best of friends, and owed my success to that school.

"It's nothing." But his smile stayed.

"How about you then? Where'd you attend college?" What I really wanted to ask was how he got into the business of escorting, but I wasn't ballsy enough to outright ask that.

"You really want to know?" he asked. He motioned me to lean closer, and I eagerly did. He whispered in my ear.

"If I told you, Gallagher girl, then I'd have to kill you."

 **Don't you guys just love mysterious Zach? Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you enjoy the chapter! If so please review!**

 **Chapter 4**

"Fine, Zach. Don't tell me. I don't care anyway." I huffed, pulling my magazine back from him. He chuckled at my irritation.

"Sorry, Gallagher girl. It's against company policy to divulge in my past."

I could read between the lines. He was worried I was some psycho girl who'd look into him after the terms of our contract we're finished.

"Also, you should really refer to me as only Lawrence. If you get in the habit of calling me Zach, you might slip up and ruin the façade." Something in his tone shattered my cool. He was drawing the line at becoming too chummy. This was strictly a business deal, and me asking about his past and calling him Zach made him think I was getting attached.

"Good idea, Lawrence. I wouldn't want this to be anything but what it is," I said coolly. He just nodded and put in earphones for the in-flight movie. It was _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_. Despite the fact that I loved the movie, I ended up falling asleep halfway through it and didn't wake up until the plane was landing.

I glanced around. My eyes were blurry and I was in a daze.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Zach said. It took a full moment to remember the events of that had transpired. It all came rushing back, and I sat up alert.

"Let's get this horrible weekend started."

We exited the plane. I knew my hair was messed up, and I'm sure my mascara was smudged. I'd worry about my appearance later. Right now, I had to get to a cab and get to the hotel we were staying at. Well, first I had to call my mother.

"Go get the bags. I need to make a phone call," I said to Zach. He nodded and headed off. I hurried a corner and pulled out my phone.

20 voicemails

I groaned and pressed on the first message.

"Hello Ms. Morgan, this is Sophie Acrewater from the agency. I'm sorry to inform you that Collin Davis has the flu and will be unable to escort you to your sister's wedding. However, we've set up a replacement escort for you that we believe will fulfill your specific requirements. His name is Zachary Goode. I can't go into too much detail about him because his records are confidential, but he has been thoroughly vetted. I can say he's extremely good looking, very personable, and will impress the pants off of any mother or ex-boyfriend. If there are any problems, contact me directly through the agency and I'll be happy to accommodate you in any way that I can."

So, not even the agency could tell me about Zach's past. That's just as well because I don't care. I clicked on to the next message.

"Cameron dear, it's your mother. I'm sure you're on the plane by now, unless you've missed it and are waiting for another one, which I hope is not the case. The meet and great lunch party is at three, and your plane is supposed to land at two-thirty, which gives you just enough time to get here. After the—"

I clicked to the next message.

"Cam-cam! It's Belinda. Are you on the plane? When you land at the airport could you please get me one of those soft pretzel thingys? I'm _dying_ for one. Thanks!"

"Cameron, it's your mother again. You haven't called me back, so I'm assuming you're on the plane. Oh! Did I tell you that your Aunt Abby called to tell me she's going to be late? Apparently, she's got to work late and won't show up until drinks later tonight. I mean she could've gotten off of work, but you know how she is—"

I clicked to the next message. It's not that I didn't care what she had to say. I knew that whatever she was saying now would surely be repeated as soon as I stepped foot in the hotel.

"Hey, Cammie—it's Macey. I've got great news! I'm being sent to try and get this posh lawyer who lives in London to join our firm. So I'll be there roughly the same time as you. Let's grab a drink if you're free. Also, I can't wait to check out this man of yours. Ta-ta."

For a moment, the stress and anguish I felt melted away. If Macey was around I'd be able to get through the weekend. I was sure I could get Macey into the wedding. Belinda knew her a little bit, but that wasn't the point. Belinda would love an extra person fawning over her and her wedding.

The rest of the messages were either work or my mother. The last one was Belinda wondering if I got her message about the pretzel. I sighed and headed over to the pretzel stand. I dialed my mother's number.

"Cameron, it's so good to hear from you! How was the flight? How's Lawrence? Are you on your way?"

"Yes, mother. We're on our way," I started to say.

"Well, are you almost here? The luncheon is about to start. Also, the caterer forgot the croutes for the salmon en croute, so he's making something else, which might as well be toast!"

"Mom?"

"And also Helen decided to tell me last minute that her daughter and her husband are coming. So now I have to squeeze in the extra seats and meals, and you just know she did it on purpose so that I'd have extra work."

Helen was mother's archenemy. They both went to Gallagher Academy and were roommates together. They were the kind of friends who weren't really friends but instead always tried to one-up each other. My mother graduated valedictorian and Helen was salutatorian. They went separate ways after, but stayed in touch in order to brag about their accomplishments. They met several years later when they both wanted the headmistress job at Gallagher Academy. When my mother got the job, she gave Helen a position as a professor. She taught the only class that I failed (I don't think it was a coincidence). Helen eventually went to teach at Cambridge but is now retired. They get brunch every week and discuss their newest accomplishments aka their kid's accomplishments.

When Helen's daughter got married, she held that over my mother's head for months. My mother nodded and smiled politely each time imagining bashing in Helen's conceited face. Now Belinda's marriage is the rough equivalent of winning the lottery.

"Mom, I know Helen is the devil, but can you listen to me for a second?" I said exasperated.

"Oh yes dear, what is it?" she asked.

"Did you book the extra room at the hotel for Lawrence?" I needed to make sure that we weren't going to be sleeping in the same room. I ordered a pretzel for Belinda. I wished that I could order about ten of the cinnamon covered soft pretzel sticks, but I had a tight dress to fit into tonight and many more subtly sexy outfits that Macey picked out for me before I left.

"Oh um, yes, dear. Listen: Joe's mother is riding one of those luggage carts. Joe! Stop your mother! I gotta go," she hung up.

After that I headed over to baggage claim.

Zach was standing to the side with my three different-size suitcases and his one suitcase.

"Did you pack enough for one weekend?" he asked with a repressed smile.

"Laugh now, but my over-packing has never been in vain," I retorted. It was true. I lived by the old adage: always be prepared. Sometimes having eight different outfits for one night comes in handy.

"Did you get me a pretzel?" he asked, nodding towards the bag in my hand.

"Oh no. I didn't. This is for my sister. She called and asked me to get one. I can go get you one." I glanced at my watch. "If I run I won't lose anymore time."

Zach shook his head. "It's fine. I wouldn't expect you to do that."

There was a hint of something in his tone, but I couldn't decipher what. I attempted to grab my bags, but he wouldn't let me.

"Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you carry your own bags?" he said in response.

 _You'd be like all my previous boyfriends_ , I thought but didn't say out loud. We walked towards the airport exit. One of my mother's messages informed me that there was a car waiting for us. She told me to look for my name on a sign and the driver would take us right to the hotel. And to my utter embarrassment I saw the sign. In beautiful script the names Cameron and Dominic were outlined with a giant red heart. I glanced at Zach who just looked amused by the whole thing.

"Looks like our ride is here, love," Zach said with a barely concealed smirk.

The driver packed our bags in the trunk while Zach I and got into the car.

"There's a bit of traffic on the M1 so it'll take longer to get the hotel than planned," the driver said.

"I'm sorry, my brain just did something funny. What did you say?" I asked panicked. We did not have time for there to be traffic.

"Sorry, ma'am. I can't control the traffic. It'll take about an hour extra to get to the your destination."

I could've started hyperventilating.

"But I have to change and get ready before I face my family," I said. "We can't get there once everything starts."

The driver gave me an apologetic look and started the car.

"This can't be happening," I huffed. "I can't be seen in this. These are my airplane pants. They're stretched out yoga pants—not even tight enough to show off my butt. Plus, if I don't do something about my hair, my mother will surely comment on it."

I could've go on and on about the problems of my appearance, but Zach stopped me.

"Sir, can you stop at the motor service area," Zach said.

The driver nodded. I looked at Zach questioningly.

"You can get changed there before we arrive," he said with a smile.

I glanced at him a little sheepishly. "I guess that's all right."

"You're too tense," Zach said. "Scoot closer and I'll give you one of my famous massages." I glanced at his hands. He had large firm hands with slender fingers. I bit my lip. I bet they'd feel amazing…

"Uh, that's okay," I said, inching away. He smelled like soap and that certain masculine smell that couldn't be bottled. And honestly, it was making my head spin.

"You know," He locked eyes with me, and I felt pinned to the seat. "If you're too tense people will think something is wrong. It'll ruin our cover." He held out his hand. "Are you comfortable with affectionate touches?"

"Of course," I said slightly offended. I wasn't prude. I grabbed his hand and intertwined my fingers. They were warm and slightly rough. I squeezed his hand. "See?"

He pulled me closer and brushed his thumb across my cheek.

"How's this?" he asked barely above a whisper. I resisted closing my eyes under his warm touch.

"That's fine," I murmured. I stretched my hand and ran it through his hair. He almost pulled back in surprise.

"Just practicing," I responded.

"Maybe we should practice one more thing," he said, glancing at my lips.

My heart beat against my chest, and I was sure sweat was accumulating on my forehead.

"Shh-sure," I stammered.

He leaned forward slowly, milking the anticipation. I closed my eyes waiting to feel his lips against mine.

Suddenly, the car slammed its breaks. Zach and I fell forward. I slammed my head against the driver's seat.

"Sorry, folks. We're here at the service stop."

 **So close but still so far. Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! Hope you guys enjoy the next chapter. I love all the support and reviews I'm getting. Thanks everyone! Also I don't own anything, nothing, not even the computer I'm typing this on. I don't even exist.**

 **Chapter 5**

I glanced in the rest stop's mirror. Well, it wasn't a mirror. It was a scratched piece of reflective plastic that produced a grainy stretched version of me. And maybe I'd be able to check out which outfit looked best if the words "cheeky nandos" weren't scribbled across it in black marker.

I peeked out the restroom door. Zach was leaning against the wall with a bored expression on his face. My eyes immediately zoned in on his lips.

I couldn't stop thinking of how close we came to kissing in the car. And how dumb it made me feel. Here I was getting excited over my hired male escort kissing me while he was probably thinking about all the extra money he was going to make. I was not going to let him think I was some needy desperate girl who needs to pay for someone to kiss her. The next time he tried to put the moves on me, I would show him who's in control.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I said. He looked at me.

"I think that's part of the package," he joked.

I rolled my eyes and bit back a smile. I opened the door, revealing my outfit.

"What do you think of this?"

He looked me up and down. My face heated when his eyes lingered on my curves. He probably thought I was a blimp. I've been trying to workout: running in central park, going to the gym, walking instead of taking the cab. But, I still haven't lost that extra five pounds. Macey always said I was crazy. She'd kill to have my curves. I'd kill to be as tall and willowy as her (seriously, God, who do I have to kill to make this happen?).

"You're playing it safe aren't you?" he asked suddenly.

"What? What do you mean?" I asked. I crossed my arms and shifted my body.

He gave me a knowing look.

"I bet you have a dress in one of those many suitcases that makes you feel like you're invincible—a thousand bucks."

It was true. There was a little back dress stuffed away in my suitcase, tags on. It hugged my curves and had a low back. Macey had all but forced me to try it on when we went shopping a few weeks ago. I mean yeah, at certain angles I looked incredible, but it was too flashy.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, twisting a piece of the dress's skirt in my hand.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you look beautiful in that as well." He flashed me a 100-watt smile.

"Don't get attached," I joked. His laughter followed me into the bathroom. I glanced in the mirror again. Maybe Zach had a point. I opened my bags and shifted through the tops, bottoms, granny panties, sexy panties (not that I had any expectations, but sexy panties make a woman feel confident and Lord knows I needed that confidence to survive the weekend), shoes, and other garments until I found the silky black dress folded neatly on the bottom price tag still intact. I pulled it out and held it against my body.

The last time I spent this much money on a dress and didn't wear it, it was my wedding dress. Josh and I had been engaged for about a month. It didn't seem premature to be looking for a wedding dress because when you're engaged you believe this is it. The doubts, fears, and insecurities are finally secured into confidence. I went with his mother, his sister, Macey, and Liz. My mother desperately wanted to be there, but Joe was getting knee surgery and she had to be there for him. So the whole time I was shopping, I held up my phone FaceTiming her so she could be a part of it all.

It was that way with everything. Everybody wanted a say in what dress I was going to wear and how I was going to look.

"It should be traditional and simple," Josh's mother said.

"Poufy like a princess," his sister added.

"It should be slimming," my mother insisted over the phone.

"We should go somewhere more upscale," sniffed Macey, rubbing together the fabric of one of my chosen dresses.

"Why does it have to be white? What about cream or a light pink?" added Liz.

I appreciated all of their comments, but soon it felt like I was a Barbie that everyone got to dress up but me. Not to mention they couldn't agree on a dress. Either it was too flashy, too cheap-looking, too simple, or made me feel like a ball of lace and fluff. Eventually, everyone agreed on a dress.

It was a simple A-line strapless dress with a dipped neckline. Everyone agreed it was "so me." And everyone was happy.

Except me.

The dress was lovely, but it wasn't how I envisioned myself on my wedding day. But, the dress I chose was still good, and most importantly, it appeased everyone.

In the end it didn't matter. I never got to wear the thing.

I looked at the black dress, feeling a surge of confidence rise up. I wanted to look better than good. I wanted to look hot.

I opened the door of the bathroom and walked out. Zach was looking up at the ceiling. He glanced at me. And then did a double take.

"Wow," was all he could say.

Even if the rest of the night went poorly, his expression from this moment would get me through everything.

"Ready to go?" I asked with a coy smile. He looked at me like I was redemption for his sins, and I couldn't stop the porn-esque scenarios that ran through my mind. Most involved him ripping off said dress with his teeth. And absolutely none of them ended with me paying him for services rendered.

It took Zach a moment to respond. But, soon the arrogant smirk was back and any hint of attraction was gone.

He held out his arm, and I took it. "Ready when you are, darling."

We arrived at the hotel only a half hour late, which wasn't so bad considering the traffic. Of course this meant we'd be walking in during the first course of the meal. And this also meant that everyone would turn and look at us when we walked in.

If we left now we'd be back at the airport and on the 3 o'clock plane heading back to New York City.

Zach must have sensed my hesitation because he squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"Do you want to go over the plan again?" he asked.

I took a deep breath.

"We're a happy couple of three months. You're my dentist and that's how we met."

"Don't forget the most important thing," Zach said. My heart started racing. What did I forget? I looked at him questioningly. His green eyes pierced mine. They reminded me of a sunny spring day. "You're an amazing beautiful woman who can get through this weekend."

It didn't sound rehearsed. It didn't sound like something he probably has said to a million different women. If Zach could do anything it was act. But I didn't focus on that. What he was saying was true. I am an amazing, average-looking (I'm not ugly, but I don't look like Angelina Jolie or Kiera Knightley) woman who can muster the courage to get through this weekend.

"You're the best fake boyfriend I've ever hired," I said.

Zach made a face.

"Remember that I'm your _real_ boyfriend and we shouldn't have a problem."

Zach grabbed the bags from the trunk while I paid the taxi driver.

We walked in to the lobby of the hotel. I decided to check-in in order to avoid my family for another few seconds.

"Hi, I have two rooms reserved under the name Cammie Morgan?" I told the clerk. I glanced around the lobby while she checked the reservation on her computer. The ceilings were high and frescoed. The lobby illuminated gold. It was the place to throw parties in London. The only reason Belinda got the reservation is because Joe was able to pull a few strings. I don't know how he did it, but I knew it made my mom happy and he'd go to the end of the world just to achieve that feat.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Morgan, but I only have you booked for one hotel room," the woman replied. My armpits started to sweat.

"Please check again," I said sweetly. I knew exactly what was happening, but I wanted to stay in denial.

"Sorry, only one room booked for Cameron Morgan," the woman said again.

 _I was going to strangle my mother_.

"That's fine. I'd like to purchase another room please."

"I'm sorry, but all of our rooms are booked because of the several big events we're celebrating," she said. She waited with a patient smile and fearful eyes. She was waiting for me to lash out at her and scream until I got my way. I knew a lot about customers from years in customer service.

I could almost picture my mother's evil grin while she sipped a glass of champagne and lightening struck in the background.

"Is there a problem, honey?" Zach asked.

"No! No problem at all," I said quickly. What was I going to do? If I told him we were sharing a room he'd automatically assume I wanted to sleep with him. "Do the hotel rooms have separate beds?" I asked the lady quietly.

"Yes," she responded confused. She glanced at Zach then back at me. I didn't offer an explanation. "If you'd like I can send up the bags up to your room?"

"That won't be necessary. I can do—"

"Cammie Morgan? Is that who I bloody think it is?" I heard someone shout across the way.

Suddenly, my unease melted away. A smile spread on my face. When I turned around, a ball of dark skin and curly hair came shooting towards me. Strong arms wrapped me in a tight embrace.

"Rebecca Baxter, I can't believe you're here!" I gushed.

Rebecca Baxter, aka Bex, and I had been friends since kindergarten when I lived in England with my parents. We me when little Stevie Smith pushed me into the sandbox. Bex ran up to me, helped me up, and then punched Stevie in the nose. We were inseparable after that.

She was there for me when my father died. I was there for her when her mom was in the ICU after a car accident. We went through puberty together (so yeah we've seen the worst sides of each other). When I moved to the states so my mom could become headmistress for Gallagher Academy, we didn't lose touch. Bex actually spent freshman year as a Gallagher Girl. But, then she got an early admittance to Oxford and decided to go to college back in England where her family lived. She was on track to be an ambassador just like her father.

She now works for the British government as an ambassador—or that's what she has everyone believe. She's hinted that she does more for the government than she let's on. But, she can't talk about it, and so I like to make up scenarios where she's a secret agent for MI6, like a female Bond.

I've kept in touch with her since freshman year. She's constantly traveling, so I don't get to see her as much as I like. But, when we get together it's like we were never a part.

"Cams, you know I love you, but if you call Rebecca I'm going to kick your cute arse," she laughed. I laughed along, feeling more carefree than I had in days. I gave her another tight hug.

"I'm so glad you're here. My mother wasn't sure if you were going to be able to get off work."

Bex wasn't listening. She was too busy eyeing Zach.

"Don't look now, Cams, but right over there is Mr. Tie-me-up-tie-me-down."

I blushed.

"Yeah, that's my boyfriend, Lawrence," I admitted, placing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Shut the fuck up," Bex said, hitting me. She did it lightly, but her toned arms probably left a bruise, which I definitely think was intentional. "How could you not tell me," she hissed.

"Well, you've been out of service for the last couple months, so we really haven't gotten a chance to catch up," I said. Technically, I wasn't lying.

Bex ignored me and walked up to Zach.

"So you're the man who's dating my best friend?" she said. She eyed him up and down, and despite the foot in height he had over her, I'd place my bet on Bex winning the fight.

"That's right," he said. He didn't seem as intimidated as he should've been.

"If you ever my precious cinnamon bun, I will personally make sure you never walk again," she said, with a wicked smile. Zach laughed, and I cringed. Bex turned to me.

"Uh-uh, he did _not_ just laugh at me." She turned back to him. "You think I'm bloody joking, bucko? If you even do so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll shove your head so far up your own ass that—"

"Okay! Thank you, Bex." I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away from the now very uncomfortable looking Zach. "That's enough," I hissed. "Can you go tell my mom we've arrived?"

"Anything for you, Cams. By the way, you look smoking hot." She turned away, not before mouthing to Zach "I'm watching you."

As soon as she left, I rushed to Zach.

"Look, I'm sorry about her. She's a tad protective of me," I explained.

Zach waved me off. He was smiling. Most guys would've been running away by now. Then again most guys weren't being paid to stick around.

"I like her. She seems like a good friend."

"She's the best," I agreed. I sighed. My mother surely knew I was here. I couldn't hide any longer.

"Let's go pretend we're in love," I sighed.

 **Review if you're enjoying it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, fellow fanfictioners (maybe we should have a cooler name? fannies? Heh, butts. How am I an adult?) Hope you all enjoy the next chapter. Don't want you all thinking I've forgotten about this story, I've just been trying to get the creative juices flowing.**

 **For anyone out there who's struggled with writer's block, here's a tip:**

 **-if you don't know what's going to happen in the next scene, then you haven't done enough research. Take a minute just to think about what's going to happen next. Then write it. If you're still struggling, read something: a book, an online article, this chapter, anything.**

 **All done with the talking, except for one more thing**

 _ **LIVE FROM NEW YORK IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT—just kidding it's the disclaimer**_

 **Chapter 6**

Zach and I held hands as we walked towards the ballroom. The actual ceremony was going to be held in the hotel's gardens. There was this beautiful white arch with a small pond behind it that would serve as the focal point. The reception, luncheons, rehearsal dinner were all going to be held in the hotel between the dining room and lavish ballroom.

"Do you think it looks like were trying to hard?" I asked. I let go of his hand. "Maybe we should link arms? No, we're not skipping the yellow-brick road. How about I go first, and you have your hand on my lower back? Or is that too much? Maybe we should just not touch each other at all."

"Cammie." Zach put his hands on my shoulder. "The only way you can sell the lie is if you believe it yourself. We can go in there doing a double cartwheel and no one would question our relationship as long as you acted like it was true."

"You've done this a lot haven't you," I asked. I felt a flare of annoyance and immediately tried to squish it. It shouldn't bother me that Zach is good at his job.

"That's not the point. Cammie," his hands squeezed my shoulders. My heart jolted. "Be confident!"

I untangled myself from his grasp and looked at him coolly.

"I'm not one of your one-night-stand girls who need you to validate their self-worth. I don't need your flirtatious smiles and your stunning green eyes to glance my way and make me think that someone like _you_ might actually be interested in me. I'm not a broken girl who needs someone to fix her, or a fragile piece of art that needs to be completed. I am a confident woman with a successful job, amazing friends, and an ass that won't quit (that's figuratively speaking—my ass certainly will quit if I'm on the stair master). So thank you for the uplifting advice, but I'm good."

Of course I didn't actually say any of that.

"I'll keep that in mind," was what I actually said. (Maybe I did need to grow a pair).

We walked in to the ballroom. Chatter descended on us immediately. I picked up a few conversations.

"Lovely wedding I'm sure."

"There are apparently seven courses at today's luncheon alone!"

"Open bar? How long is this wedding going to last?"

"Did you hear about Belinda's fiancé? He apparently makes six figures."

"Well I heard they invited Prince George to the wedding."

"Is that Cammie?"

I kept my eyes forward. The fewer people I made eye contact with the fewer people I'd have to make pointless small talk with.

"Ooooh Cam-cam!" I heard a familiar squeal. I turned and saw Belinda rushing towards me, her fiancé trailing faithfully behind her. She wore a ruby red dress. It was silk and clearly cost more than I paid in rent. It was tight and short, something one wouldn't usually wear to a family event, but Belinda and rules mixed just as well as oil and water.

She enveloped me in a weak hug. Her arms were skinny and pale. She couldn't lift more than fifty pounds—a trait everyone found adorable. They all loved her angelic delicacy.

"Oh Cam-cam, I'm so glad you came! Except you're really late." She flashed me a smile. "I do hope you brought me one of those pretzels? I'm absolutely I'm absolutely _dying_ for one of those. I mean I don't blow up like you do when I eat salt, so I think I'll be okay!"

I smiled with my teeth closed and squeezed her shoulders.

"Wow, I've sure missed you."

"I missed you too! It's been so hard without you around. Mother hardly ever nagged me when you were here—" she stopped talking as she saw Zach behind me. She pushed passed me and held out her hand. "I don't think we've met." She smiled demurely.

Zach took it and kissed it politely. Belinda giggled, and I couldn't help the roll of eyes.

"That's Lawrence, Belinda. My boyfriend. Lawrence, this is my sister Belinda. The _bride_."

"Enchante," she said.

"Oh wow you actually remember some of your high school French?" I said, hoping the sarcasm wasn't dripping out of my mouth. I turned to Tom. He was tall and very handsome. His features were dark like he spent most of his time on the golf course. He had curly, black hair that looked almost as silky as Macey's. His eyes were dark in color but bright in a way that made men look striking. His face had a neatly trimmed scruff that still showed his sharp features. It looked like he walked out of an Armani catalogue. He was totally my type, and for a moment I resented Belinda for getting to him first. "Hey Tom." I leaned in for a hug.

"Cameron!" his accent was thick and British. He wrapped his arms around me in a familial gesture. He smelled spicy like expensive cologne.

When we parted, Belinda grabbed him and slunk an arm around his waist. He in turn held her waist. She placed a tiny kiss on his cheek. They looked like the perfect couple.

"You guys should be put on a magazine," I joked.

"Actually, _Charmed Bride_ wants us to do an interview with them. Tom knows the editor in chief. So if someone approaches you and asks about me, only tell them the good stuff," she said, with a tinkling laugh.

"There's no bad stuff, darling," Tom said, kissing her hair.

I smiled through the jealousy.

"So this is your man, huh?" Tom asked, reaching for Zach's hand.

"Yes," I stammered, forgetting her was there for a moment. I put my arm on Zach's shoulder, trying to look casual.

"Well if you want, I could refer your to my friend at the bride magazine? They'll need a cover for next month," he added, jokingly.

"No!" I said loudly. They all looked at me. "I mean, we've only been dating for a few months. No need to get wedding magazines."

"We're taking it slow," Zach said, covering my discomfort. He gave me a look that said "be cool."

"Where's mother?" I got my answer before Belinda could even open her mouth.

"Cameron dear!" She gave me a brief hug. "I cannot believe how long it took you to get here. What is wrong with the airlines? You know I've never liked airplanes—they're dangerous and unsanitary. Anyway, you won't believe what I've had to deal with. The bartender has run out of ice—Joe is out getting some now from the hotel. I told him we could have sent someone else who actually works here, but he insisted. Also, you won't believe it but that retched Maggie is wearing the same dress as me! I was beyond embarrassed at first, but really the plum doesn't compliment her skin as it does mine. But still, the nerve of her." Her words were so rushed it sounded like one giant sentence.

"Hey, mother, do you want to meet my boyfriend?"

I chose the lesser of two evils: listen to my mother rant or introduce her to my paid-boyfriend.

"It's a pleasure," Zach said taking my mother's hand. Her face was awestruck.

"The pleasure is all mine." Her face turned radiant. "I'm _so_ happy you were able to make it. Of course, we'll have to sit down and chat later, but right now the food is being served. So let me show you to your table. Cameron, would you go see if your sister needs anything. A drink perhaps." She gave me a knowing look. She wanted to talk to Zach privately.

My heart clenched. I couldn't let her talk to Zach alone. She'd see right through our act the moment she separated us.

"Come on, Mother. Paul can get her something. I'd rather stay next to my darling." I grabbed his hand and placed a kiss on his cheek. My mother's smile was so wide it could fit a hanger.

"Very well, you two lovebirds. Follow me. Cameron, did you happen to see Rebecca yet? She was able to come! Oh and your aunt Abigail should be arriving tonight or tomorrow morning. I never know with that girl."

Zach squeezed my hand. "You're doing great," he whispered in my ear.

A waiter with a tray of flutes passed by me and I longed to reach out and grab three. But, I had the whole night ahead of me. I couldn't go around getting drunk, throwing myself all over Zach, and telling everyone how I bought myself a hunk.

We sat at our table. I smiled with relief when I saw Bex was already sitting at her chair flirting with a waiter who may as well have been a Greek God. His white shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and his black vest both slimmed and showed off his upside down triangle body. Leave it to Bex who could land a guy like that without having to pay for it.

When Bex saw me, she dismissed the guy and headed over to me.

"Thank God, you saved me. That block was going on and on about Crossfit. As if that would impress me."

I glanced at his butt in his tight pants—that impressed me. We sat down at the table and waited for our food to come out. Placed in front of me was a tiny bowl full of green soup and a leafy salad. I thought about the several fish and chip shops we passed on our way here and sighed. I shoveled food in my mouth regardless; maybe it'd stop people from talking to me.

"Lawrence where'd you meet my Cammie?" Bex asked, sipping her Scotch neat. I could imagine it going down her throat, hot and smoky, finishing with a warm swell in the belly. I swallowed (this trip was turning me into an faux-alcoholic).

"I'm her dentist," Zach said with a chuckle.

"If all dentist's looked like you then maybe people would floss more," Bex said.

"Or less," I added. They both laughed. I breathed a sigh of relief, and the persistent knot in my stomach loosened a tad. I could do this. I was actually pulling it off.

"Lawrence, what do you think of Cammie's art studio. We're all so proud of her," Bex said. She nudged my ribs like a dad trying to embarrass their kid. The knot tightened again. Zach had no knowledge about my studio.

"It's incredible. Her blend of metamodernism and transcendentalism creates an unreal artistic experience. The first time I saw it, my senses were overloaded. I saw and felt so many different things. When you're looking at one of Cammie's pieces you're reminded of something greater, something more. I just wish there were words for this feeling," Zach said. Bex and I were staring at him; both of us were shocked. Her shocked because she just got a first-hand experience at Zach's persuasive alluring voice that could spin words into magic like a siren. I, on the other hand, was shocked how Zach knew all that.

He got it.

He understood what my studio was all about. So few people look at my studio and think anything more than "ooh pretty colors." But Zach, he knew about that feeling!

Or he was a pretending do.

My feelings swung between wanting to believe and doubting.

"Huh, you found a bloke who cares about art just as much as you," Bex said, turning her hazel eyes on me. I could tell what she was thinking: I found a good one. My knot tightened even more. It was all a lie.

"Yeah, I keep saying her artwork should be in MoMa," Zach said.

The knot now twisted in my gut painfully.

Bex shot me a look. She set her drink down calmly.

"Cammie, I need a fag. Care to join me outside?" It wasn't a request.

"Sure," I said. My heart pounded against my chest. I needed to wipe my underarms as well.

I followed her outside. She didn't say a word as she lit up her cigarette. She took in a deep breath and blew white puffs out her mouth. It looked like steam coming from a dragon. She trained her beautiful angry eyes at me and said in the calmest voice:

"Who is that man pretending to be your boyfriend?"

 **Review because I read every one of them and really do care how you feel (plus it makes me feel like a million bucks).**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Wha-what do you mean?" I feigned innocence, knowing I looked like someone who shoplifted something and was holding it behind their back.

Bex glared at me. Her nostrils flared cigarette smoke. If I had a camera I would've taken a picture and captioned it "anger."

"You know bloody well what I'm talking about, Cameron. Your 'boyfriend' in there just said your artwork should be in the MET. And anyone who's known you longer than a week knows perfectly well how you feel about the MET."

The MET is a wonderful museum. I think any place that displays art is a wonderful establishment. But last year when my sales really started taking off (the trick is to get one rich suburban housewife to be interested, then you'll be flooded with clacky-shoed women wielding their husbands' credit cards saying "oh a sorority sister of mine raved about your work. I must have a custom piece") a saleswoman from the MET showed up interested in a piece for one of the new exhibits. I was thrilled by the honor and the prospects of displaying my work in a more prominent area.

I spent months sculpting the perfect piece; everything from the floor I designed it on was meticulously planned for. Then after all the paperwork was just about settled, they backed out last minute and said "they were going in another direction." This is art talk for "a more well-known artist decided to give us a piece." They did offer to hold on to my creation in case they found a place for it. But the caveat was: they wouldn't pay me. Needless to say, I felt snubbed and outraged. They didn't respect me as an artist or give me a courtesy warning that my piece might not have been chosen. After discussing it with other artists, I found that the MET was famous for commissioning young artists and then double-crossing them. Since then I've launched rallies against the MET calling them out for trying to turn art into a business.

"So who is he?" Bex asked. "Because I know he isn't your boyfriend." She smashed her cigarette on the brick wall. Ashes fell softly to the ground.

I sighed knowing there wasn't an alternative other than telling her the truth.

"He's an escort I hired to be my boyfriend for the weekend."

I waited for the disbelief, the ridiculing laugh, the comments like "and I thought I was desperate." But they never came. Instead, Bex lit another cigarette.

"Smart," she said finally.

"Huh?"

"Smart idea. You can please your mom, and there's the added bonus that you don't have to worry about entertaining him in the bedroom like you would if it was any other date. The only issue is that the bugger is an idiot, and your mom will see right through him the second she gets a chance to actually talk to him." Bex inhaled deeply like the cigarette would bring her answers. "That's why you're gonna need me to help. It'll give me something to do at this fucking snooze fest of a wedding. Seriously your sister's posh husband couldn't have sprung for a DJ?"

I looked at Bex for moment, and tears came to my eyes. It was mostly because a lack of sleep, but also because I had one of those moments when you realize how lucky you really are, like when you're looking at the ocean at the sunset or you're eating a really good cheeseburger. It just clicks in your mind that something really special has happened. And in my case I was reminded that I had the most amazing friend in the world. She was the kind of friend who had your back no matter what: someone picking on you? She'll beat their ass. You need a dead body buried? She'll be there with a shovel and a snack. Need to fake a relationship? She'll help you out, no questions asked.

"He's rather handsome don't you think?" Bex said, with a smile that indicated trouble.

"Yeah, he looks like a million bucks," I responded dryly.

"Please dear god tell me you didn't pay that much. Because no one is worth that," Bex said. We both laughed. "By the way what's his actual name?"

"Uh, Zachary Goode," I said.

She squinted as if trying to recall the name. But she just smiled and said, "Good name. Strong."

She finished her cigarette, as we discussed our plan. Bex would be on the look out and ready to intervene any chance my mother came close to interviewing Zach. And I would of course fill him in on anything and everything semi-relevant about myself that could be brought up in a conversation.

"Oh don't forget to tell him that you're allergic to shellfish," Bex said, as we walked back into the hotel.

"Good one." I added the allergen to the list of random things we deemed important enough to tell Zach about.

"Oh and how about the time where you broke your wrist when you thought it'd be good idea to leapfrog over that random guy while you were drunk."

"Is that one really necessary?" I asked, not thrilled to bring up that embarrassing story.

"It could come up," Bex said, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

"Don't or I'll be reminding everyone about your history of bed wetting." I said, smirking with satisfaction as the smile disappeared from Bex's face.

"Hey we both know that circumstances were beyond my control that one time," Bex sniffed defensively. "But if we really want to rehash old memories, how about I bring up what happened at the homecoming dance freshman year."

"Don't you dare!" I shrieked. But before I could make sure that memory be kept under lock and key, we were back among the wedding guests. Bex wandered off, probably to poor herself another drink, and I headed back over to my seat. To my surprise and horror, Zach was talking to my grandmother. I prayed that they hadn't gotten passed her usual complaints about flying from Nebraska.

"I mean what audience are they catering too? Eskimos? Why would you make a plane so cold I can't feel my toes?" My grandmother was saying.

I sighed with relief.

"Hi grandma," I said.

"Hello, Cameron. I was just telling your handsome boyfriend about how ridiculous planes are. You know I brought a turkey thermometer with me this time because no one ever believes me when I say this, and now I have definitive proof that the Nebraska airline is keeping their planes fifty degrees. Fifty! That's as cold as my icebox. Do they think one of their passengers is just gonna croak, and they want to be prepared for that?" My grandmother rambled. She was holding a glass of Pinot noir and it was almost completely empty. Orange lipstick smeared the rim. I doubted it was her first glass.

"You know, I have a friend who's pretty high up there in the airline business. I can give you his number so you can launch an official complaint to someone who can actually help you," Zach said helpfully.

My grandmother looked at him like he was a godsend.

"My dear boy, you have earned the points from me. I'll spread the word that you're a good egg to the rest of the family so no one hassles you." She stood up somewhat wobbly, and Zach rushed to her aid before I could. She patted his shoulder muttering things like "they don't make 'em like this anymore."

"You know she's gonna hound you for that number later. She might be old, but her memory is sharp," I said.

Zach just smiled and watched her walk through the crowd. "She was sweet. And she was right. Have you ever been on a Nebraska flight? It's like their punishing their citizens for trying to leave that God forsaken state."

I laughed. "You're right about that. I used to visit my grandparents farm in the winters. I almost lost a toe from frostbite." Zach was looking at me a little funnily. I cleared my throat. "Anyway, it was good of you to be nice to her. Her opinion spreads through the family like wildfire. Even if no one asks."

Zach nodded as if he understood the odd dynamics of my weird family. But then again maybe he did. Maybe his family was just as crazy as mine. It wouldn't be too far off a guess. It seems like everyone has a crazy family, which would mean that everyone in the world is slightly crazy—which I believe.

"Do you want me to get you a drink? You look like you could use one," he said.

I didn't want to ask what he meant by that. Usually when people observe that someone "needs a drink" it's followed by "because it looks like hell spit you out."

"Uh no. We need to discuss some things," I said hastily.

"Should we go somewhere more private?" Zach suggested. People milled around, moving from person to person sharing their own stockpile of small talk.

"Yeah, good idea."

We headed out toward the lobby of the hotel. Zach placed his hand on the small of my back. I felt myself tense under the soft pressure. I wasn't used to the intimate gesture, but after a few moments I realized how nice it felt. His hand was warm and guiding. It felt safe.

I shook the thoughts from my head and walked a little quicker. Zach's hand suspended in the air for a moment and then fell back to his side.

We passed the lobby full of lavish people carrying Louis Vuitton suitcases and expressions that said, "my life is the kind you dreamt about when you were younger." I jerked toward the right suddenly wanting to be away from all people.

I passed the reflective gold elevators and headed toward the back door where the employees snuck out on their smoke breaks. It led to a small outdoor courtyard. It wasn't fancy enough for guests. There was a broken-down fountain in the middle filled with ashes and cigarette buds. A couple of fake trees lined the corners, their plastic leaves faded to yellow from the sunlight. I went and sat on the fountain—happy to be away from everyone. Zach stayed standing.

"We have a problem," I said. "Your cover was blown."

Zach sighed and sat down next to me.

"How'd Bex find out?" he asked.

I glanced at him in surprise. How he figured out it was Bex who pegged him as fake, I didn't know.

"Uh, the MET thing. I kind of have a beef with them." Zach raised his eyebrows. "Long story short, they gipped me, and I'm still pissed about. So apparently I didn't tell you everything about me that could possibly expose you as a fake." I sighed. "I have no idea how I'm going to cram three months of a relationship into ten minutes." My heart racing synchronized with my head pounding. I could've drowned a couple flutes of champagne right about now. But, alcohol makes me chatty, and a loose mouth wasn't what I needed.

Zach placed his hands on my head, smoothing my hair down. I felt a shiver go down my spine. I couldn't help the fact that I loved it when people played with my hair.

"I know someone figuring out the truth about our relationship freaks you out, but everything is going to work out. I made a mistake improvising. Next time I'll keep to myself like a silent, brooding type," Zach said. His hands now moved to my neck, and he began to gently massage.

"No. Uh, that's not necessary," I stammered. I relaxed into his massage, closing my eyes.

"What do you want me to say then?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

"Say…" my voice trailed off, as I tried to concentrate on anything but Zach's hands rolling my skin. A voice in my head kept nagging me to pull away and set things straight. He needed to know about my fear of slugs, that I once won a cherry pie-eating contest, that…

He gently tugged the hair at the bottom of my head. My neck craned, exposing it to his warm breath. Suddenly, I couldn't remember a thing about myself.

"Hey, you two, you're not supposed to be out here."

I ripped myself away from Zach. An annoyed-looking employee stared us down, tapping her feet. From her frazzled hair and "I need a smoke" face, I could tell she desperately needed time away from her job. And we were right in the way of it.

"So sorry," I said, grabbing Zach's hand and pulling him back to the hotel. I felt the fear from earlier crowding in my mind. Zach doesn't know enough about me. Our cover is going to be blown. The wedding party is going to find out the only way I can get a date is to pay for one. "That so didn't go the way I wanted it to. And now we've been gone too long from the party. Okay, let me just fill you in on a few things: I played soccer in college, I once went to a Fall Out Boy concert and jumped on stage, um I hate red wine…"

"Tell you what, Gallagher Girl, if a topic comes up that you feel will compromise over cover move your hair like this," he placed a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers caressed my cheek, but I wasn't sure if it was intentional. "and I'll know to direct the conversation elsewhere."

"You can really do that?" I asked. We reached the party room. Most people were up dancing or milling around, and we headed to our empty table.

"Sure." He flashed me a smile. He held out my chair for me, and I sat down. "Try me. Ask me a question, and I'll expertly change the subject."

"Okay." I returned the smile. "What's your favorite color?"

"Come on, Gallagher Girl. You can do better than that," he said.

"Oh come on, it's a valid question," I said with a laugh. "Fine. I'll come up with something else."

I watched Zach smirk, and then I realized what he did.

"Okay, wow, nicely done." I felt a sudden need to wipe the confident look off his face. "Here's a trickier one: what happened out there in the courtyard?"

I loved the way his facial expression shifted to panic, before readjusting to expressionless.

"What do you mean?"

Classic avoidance: shifting the conversation back to me. But, I wasn't about to let him win that easily.

"You were awfully handsy out there." I leaned in, fluttering my eyelashes. I placed my hand on his arm, slowly caressing his biceps. I tried to not be impressed by the muscles. "Not falling for me are you, Zach?"

"Uh…" Zach shifted in his seat.

"Did you just call Lawrence Zach?" my mother said, appearing in front of us.

 _Oh shit._


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey, readers! I'm finally updating! Follow/review so you guys can find out when I update.**

 **Previously on** _ **The Wedding Date**_

 _"This is ridiculous. I can't hire a hooker to take me to my sister's wedding!" I exclaimed, pushing the magazine aside. It was still within reach though._

" _Zachary Goode: your new male escort."_

" _Did you just call Lawrence "Zach?" my mother said, appearing in front of us._

 _Oh shit_

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

"Uh..."

I quickly tried to think of a suitable lie. The party raged around us, and I wished I could trade places with any other person. My mom was a human lie detector. Not only that, but I've never been able to lie around her. My throat closes up, and I start sweating like crazy.

I watched my mom's expression turn from confused to suspicious.

"Cameron?"

"It's my first name, Mrs. Solomon. I go by Lawrence because I hate the name Zach. Cammie," he said, giving me a conspiratorial look. "knows that I hate it, so of course she'll call me it."

I gave Zach a look of relief.

"What's wrong with the name Zach?" my mother asked, still not completely sold on the story. Zach shrugged.

"My father's name is Zachary, and we didn't exactly get along. So I've always sort of resented the name."

I stared at Zach. He was the picture of nonchalant. I almost wondered if his story was true—that's how believable he was.

My mother's face immediately turned to sympathy. It was a great trick. Parents always felt bad for someone who didn't have a good support system at home. It was in their nature to want to care for and help any child in need.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, Lawrence. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Mrs. Solomon," Zach said, with a genuine smile.

"Oh please, dear, call me Rachel."

Zach's smile grew wider.

"Anyway, Cameron, I wanted to remind you that the final fitting is tomorrow after the brunch. So try not to eat too much today. You still want it to fit in the bridesmaids dress."

"Thanks, mother."

"All right, kids. I'll let you two get back to... well whatever it is you two were doing before I came." And after a very suggestive wink, she sauntered off back to the dining room.

"She's a lovely woman," Zach said.

I laughed, but when I looked at him I realized he wasn't joking.

"Yeah, she's a peach," I responded.

We headed back into the dining room. Immediately, Belinda bounced up to me. I nodded to Zach, and he headed back to our table.

"Cam-cam," she sang. "So did you talk to Paul yet?"

"No, Belinda," I sighed. "I just got here."

"Yeah and every second you don't talk to him is another second where I might have to go to Africa for my honeymoon."

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll go talk to him now. Happy?"

Belinda squealed.

"Thanks, Cam-cam. And I'll keep your sexy boyfriend company while you do that," she said, shooting Zach a coy smile.

"Great," I mumbled. Zach went off with her. Her arm was laced through his. I watched them go and couldn't help but marvel at how well they fit as a couple. Beautiful people just looked great with each other. I sighed again and went to find Tom.

He was standing by the bar talking to a bunch of guys. When I came up, he smiled at me. I felt my cheeks flush at the pure radiance of his smile. He was really something to look at.

"Cammie! Come meet some of my uni friends."

He introduced me to three guys who could all have easily been models. One of them, who's name was Scotty, kissed my hand. He has strawberry blonde hair and a Scottish accent.

"It's a pleasure, Cammie. You single?" I felt myself blush. He was sending me winks and flirty looks. And honestly, I wanted to say yes. He looked like a fun night.

"No, lads. She's got herself a man," Tom said, interrupting my train of thoughts.

"Yes, um, Lawrence." I glanced around and saw Zach. He was looking at us oddly, but soon got distracted by Belinda.

The guy pulled me towards him and whispered, "He don't need to no nothin'." His breath was hot in my ear. It was then I realized how drunk he was. Suddenly, he didn't seem too appealing. I untangled myself from his grip.

"Uh, Tom, can we talk?" I asked.

Tom nodded and finished his drink. We walked away from the guys, and I could feel Scotty's eyes on me. I shivered, although I wasn't sure why.

"So is this about Josh?" Tom asked. "Because I talked to him, and he said you guys were on great terms and—"

"No, no." I said, shaking my head. "It has nothing to do with him."

Honestly, with all the chaos, I had forgotten about him being here. I looked around suddenly, surprised that I hadn't seen him yet.

"He doesn't get in until later. He had a test," Paul explained, noticing my furtive glances. Shit, that didn't look like I was over him.

"So he's still on track to become a doctor then?" I asked, with a tinge of bitterness.

Tom looked at me like he felt sorry for me. I wished I could put my foot in my mouth.

"Yeah, he's got a year or so left."

"And is DeeDee going to be here for the wedding?" I asked. Boy did I look like one sad, jilted lover.

Tom looked a little uncomfortable to respond, and I wondered why.

"Actually they broke up," he said. I suppose that should have been a happy thing to hear, but it pissed me off. He broke off our engagement for someone that didn't even last. Josh just wanted to get out of our relationship, and DeeDee was that copout. Where did I go wrong?

"Anyway," I said, faking a smile. "So Belinda tells me your honeymoon is to Africa."

Tom flashed that radiant smile again. I felt my knees go weak.

"Yeah, it should be amazing. I was there once, and the night sky is breathtaking. I want to take Belinda because I have a feeling she will outshine those stars."

I almost clutched my chest at how beautiful that sentiment was. He looked so happy, so in love. I decided then that Belinda was going to have to deal with Africa. Hell, I wish I could take her place. If someone wanted to take me to see the stars just so they can marvel at how my beauty outshines them, then I think my life would be complete.

We parted after that. I headed back to my table, only to be stopped by my stepdad, Joe.

"Joe!" I said, genuinely happy for the first time I was here. He embraced me in a tight hug.

"Cammie, your mother told me you brought a boyfriend." He gave me a knowing look. "Another man who's not worth your beauty and intellect?"

I smiled. Leave it to Joe to boost my self-confidence.

"He's really great, Joe. Come meet him."

Joe didn't seem sold on the idea. I laced my arm through his. And took him to my table. Belinda had left to find someone else to give her attention. Zach was sitting alone, scanning the crowd. My heart clenched involuntarily. He was just so attractive, bringing a glass of water up to his lips. I watched the glass touch his lips, and I followed the movement of his mouth to his throat. I watched him swallow.

Joe cleared his throat. I blushed. I didn't realize I was staring.

"Lawrence," I said, bringing Joe to the table. "This is my stepdad, Joe."

Zach's face twisted suddenly with dread, and then he composed it into a pleasant smile. I was surprised with his strong reaction to seeing Joe. He held out his hand. I watched Joe's face. It never changed from its normal stern look.

"Lawrence what?" Joe asked. There was this commanding presence about Joe that I wasn't used to.

"Lawrence Patensky," he answered swiftly. He stood up taller, his body rigid.

"So you're the man who thinks he's worth my Cammie's time," Joe said, not very benevolently.

"Well I'm trying to be worth her time," Zach said smoothly. If it was real, I might have swooned. Joe, however, was less impressed.

"How exactly?" he asked.

"Joe, that's enough. Lawrence is wonderful, and he doesn't need to prove himself," I said.

"People aren't always who they seem, Cammie," Joe said.

Zach's face became pinched.

"What do you mean by that, Joe?" I asked, afraid that he knew this whole thing was a sham.

Joe's stern look was replaced with a smile. He kissed the top of my head.

"I'll see you two later," he said.

I looked at Zach, whose face didn't reassure me.

"Cammie, we might have a problem," he said.

* * *

 **Uh-oh. What's the problem? What does Joe know?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, lovelies! Sorry for the long hiatus! But, i'm hoping to revive this story once and for all! Anyway I realized some continuity errors that I have to go back and fix: Belinda's husband's name is Tom not Paul! If there's any other confusion just let me know, and I'll clear it up! Hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter 9**

Zach quickly led me out of the hotel ballroom. He pulled me off to the side by a large potted plant.

"Your stepdad might know who I am," he said quickly. He looked nervous. He was twitchy tapping his foot. It was the most uncomposed I'd seen of him yet. Thought it made me feel guilty, I liked this version of Zach more than his suave, debutant thing he always had going on. This nervous Zach was someone I could get along with.

"Joe knows you're a hooker?" I asked, shocked. How _did_ Joe know that? Was there something I needed to know?

Zach glared at me.

" _Escort_ , Cammie," he said, miffed. "And no, he might know my real identity. I'm sorry, but this means I have to leave."

"I'm sorry, I must've misheard you. What now?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him. My heart started racing, and I was seriously regretting the cocktails I turned down earlier.

He sighed. "Look, Cammie. I can't be exposed. Sorry if this ruins your weekend."

"Are you like wanted or something?" I asked. Aggravated Cammie was started to rear its head. I had spent way too long imagining ways this would go wrong, and not one of those scenarios involved my paid date ditching me.

"Don't worry, you'll get a full reimbursement." Zach looked at his watch. "I wonder when the next flight leaves," he muttered. He began pacing and periodically looking over his shoulder.

"Wait, Zach. You're overreacting. Joe doesn't know you! He would've said something," I said, trying to be patient. If Zach left, I'd be ruined. I've been embarrassed before, humiliated even. But there was no coming back from something like this. I'd become the new yardstick for pathetic. For the next millennium, people will be using my story as a way to make themselves feel better. _Oh you farted in front of your date? At least you didn't hire a boyfriend for your sister's wedding and then he ditched you._

"Trust me, Cammie, he recognized me," Zach said.

"How do you even know him?" I asked, suspicious. Joe was a retired businessman. Unless Zach caddied for him, I didn't know how they could know each other.

"I'm not going to get into it," Zach said sternly.

Ah. Zach didn't want me knowing anything about his personal life. To him, I could still be crazy. To be fair, if he left, I'd probably get a little crazy.

"Just wait a minute," I said, desperately trying to regain control of this situation. "No need to freak out yet." I was partly talking to myself at that point.

"Just give me the key to the room, so I can get my bags." Zach held out his hand expectantly.

The keycard in my purse suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. I could feel everything unraveling at this point. I stared at him with pleading eyes, not knowing how to turn this around.

"You can't leave," I said, hoping my voice didn't crack. "I don't know what I'll do!"

Zach sighed. "You'll be fine, Cammie. I saw plenty of men checking you out. Just get one of them."

I so wanted to get back to that point later, preferably asking for descriptions of these men, but at the moment I had to stop this train from derailing.

"I already paid for you," I argued, lowering my voice to a whisper. "And I introduced you as my boyfriend. I can't just pick up another guy."

"Say I had to go home unexpectedly due to business. Honestly, I don't really care what you say. I just need to go," Zach said. He started walking away towards the elevator.

"You're being irrational," I hissed, following after him. "What could be so possibly important about your real identity that you're going to ruin this business deal to conceal it?"

"It's more important than making some loser ex boyfriend jealous," Zach said, angrily pressing the elevator button. I stood in front of the doors.

"First of all, you're right about the loser part. Second of all, I'm so issuing a formal complaint with your agency," I said, angrily.

Zach bit his knuckle with feigned horror.

"Oh no! A formal complaint!" Then he rolled his eyes at me.

"You know you're not nearly as charming when you're off the clock," I hissed.

The elevator door opened.

"Where do you think you two are going?" We both turned around. When I saw my mother, I quickly wrapped my arms around Zach's body. He stiffened at first, then like the pro he is, held me in a half embrace.

"Well, mother, uh we're just heading..." I was at a loss for words.

Unfortunately, my mother took my fumbling as an indication for something else. She smiled slyly.

"You'll have plenty of time to be alone after the welcome luncheon, dear. There are still many people who haven't met Lawrence. Like Helen." My mother gave me a knowing look.

"No, but, mother, we really need to—"

"Oh your young love can wait a few more hours," she said with a wink. I almost gagged. "By the way, Lawrence, Joe said," Zach and I both froze. Surely, Joe would've told my mother if they thought I was dating someone committing identity fraud. "that you seem like a wonderful man. Well, I'm paraphrasing. He said you weren't too bad. You know how fathers are. They never think anyone is good enough for their daughters. I'm just thankful Cammie has "an anyone" that he can judge," my mother said.

"Thanks for that, mother," I said, wishing a sinkhole would appear and swallow me whole.

"I mean, you did have that wretched Josh for a long time. You know Joe never liked him. Neither did I for that matter," she added, completely obvious to my red face. "It's a good thing the engagement broke off when it did."

"Yes, it gave me a chance to try to be worthy enough for Cammie," Zach said, steering the conversation from hell into another direction. I shot Zach a look of gratitude.

My mother beamed at Zach's response.

"Well then, shall we carry on back to the dining room instead of wherever it was you two were flittering off to?" my mother said in her not-to-subtle way she was trademarked for.

"After you, Rachel," Zach said, holding out his arm. My mother started forward, blabbering about something I couldn't even muster up the energy to pay attention to. We followed along, holding hands.

"What about..." I whispered to Zach, nodding my head towards the elevator. Hope blossomed in my chest. Maybe he wasn't going to leave me.

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you alone to fight off the wolves," he said, jokingly. "It seems Joe didn't recognize me. I knew there was a slight chance he wouldn't. I'm glad it worked out." He gave my hand a slight squeeze.

I was relieved for the most part. But a little part of me, the nagging part that constantly pointed out the blemishes on my face and the extra weight around my tummy, wanted to pry into Zach's life. Five minutes ago, he was practically sprinting out of this hotel. And now he's cool and collected like a spring breeze.

What secret was he hiding?

* * *

The welcome luncheon dragged on, as I knew it would. When I wasn't parading Lawrence around my mother's friends, I was making excruciating small talk with people whose identities I wasn't sure about.

"Yes, Kathy, it was wonderful catching up. I'll have to send you that pie recipe!" I said, my smile as forced as the polite chatter coming out of my mouth.

"Please do!" Kathy—the woman who might've been Belinda's tennis instructor or sorority sister, I wasn't sure—said. "By the way, that boyfriend of yours is delish. Where can I buy one?" she added with a laugh.

I laughed along with her secretly thinking, _if you only knew_. After untangling myself from the small talk that just wouldn't end, I found Zach. He was chatting with Tom. I stopped taking in the both of them standing side by side. Tom was taller with darker features—the kind of guy that I usually went for. And if I was being honest with myself, I had the biggest crush on him when Belinda and he started dating. But right now, as I took in Zach's confident build, electric green eyes, and devil-may-care smile, I couldn't help but find myself more attracted to Zach.

 _Oh no_. _How many drinks did I have? Maybe another will help._

A waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes walked by, and I quickly grabbed one and downed it. The fizzy bubbles scorched my throat, which helped clear my head. I could not let myself get attracted to Zach. I had to treat him like anyone else I was doing business with. It didn't matter how much I wanted to bite his lower lip.

 _Oh dear lord_. _Cammie! Pull yourself together!_

Tom looked up and saw me. He flashed me a smile. It wasn't as nice as Zach's.

 _Dammit_.

I walked toward him and he put his arm around me. He turned to Zach.

"You've got yourself a lucky girl here, mate," Tom said, smiling at me. "Beauty, brains—the whole package." I felt myself blushing. Where was this coming from?

"Oh believe me, I know," Zach said, with a slight edge in his voice. I glanced at him, wondering where the stony expression was coming from. He was staring at Tom's arm around me.

"Cammie, do you remember when we got stuck in that rainstorm, and we had to pull over on the M4. And since the radio didn't work, we ended up belting Sinatra?" he asked, laughing. I laughed with him, relishing in the memory.

"You hit those high notes perfectly," I said, remembering.

I remembered that car ride like it was yesterday. On one of the holiday's when I came to England with Josh, we were supposed to meet Tom and Belinda for dinner. However, I had business in town acquiescing a sculpture for my gallery. Tom also was going to be late due to work, so we decided to arrive a little later. Anyway, we had more of a good time in the car than I did with Josh during the whole trip. See, after Josh's and my engagement, I remember feeling disillusioned. I figured it was just pre-marital jitters. Now I know it was because Josh wasn't right for me. And he must've come to the same conclusion, hence the major break up.

"Ah yes, but I couldn't match your sweet voice, Cammie," Tom said, chuckling. Sweet voice? Was this man on crack? The only note I could hit was the sound of pigs squealing.

"You should get back to Belinda," Zach suggested suddenly. He put his hand on my arm, politely trying to pull me away. "I know if I was getting married, I wouldn't want to spend a second away from my fiancé."

Tom shot Zach a look I couldn't interpret. Some weird testosterone thing was going on, and I didn't have the right genetic chromosome to be in the loop. Tom smiled tightly.

"Yes, I suppose I should go find my darling." Tom leaned and kissed me on the cheek, which shocked me to say the least. I felt Zach pull me closer. "Lovely chatting with you, Cammie." He then sauntered off, leaving me stunned and Zach annoyed.

"I don't like him," Zach said, glaring at his retreating figure.

"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious. Zach let go of me, and I found myself missing his warmth. He ran a hand through his hair—something I noticed he did when he was aggravated.

"He was all over you!" he said.

"And that bothers you because..." I said, a smile starting to form on my lips.

"Look if I was getting married in two days, I wouldn't be draping myself over anyone who wasn't my fiancé," Zach said defensively.

I slid closer to him. I walked my fingers up his chest, marveling at how hard it was.

"Sure that's all it was, Zach?" I said coyly. I was completely messing with, trying to get a reaction out of him. I knew he didn't have any feelings for me, but still it was fun watching him get embarrassed.

Unfortunately, my idea didn't go strictly as planned. He swept his arms around and brought me flush against his chest. His piercing eyes looked darker than normal.

"How do you want me to feel, Cammie?" he whispered.

"How much am I paying you to feel?" I asked with a chuckle, a little nervous about our sudden proximity.

His expression changed suddenly, but before I could ask what was wrong, I caught sight of something horrible.

"Zach, kiss me," I said suddenly.

"What?" he asked, startled.

"Kiss me now!"

 **Ooooh what did Cammie see? What's going on with Zach's mysterious past? Anything you all would like to see happen in this story? Review and tell me!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Zach didn't waste a moment putting his lips to mine. And when he did, oh my god...

His lips pressed against mine soft at first. And then the intensity graduated to the point where I had to cling to him to stable my dizzying world. His mouth was insistent, parting my trembling lips. The pressure he created inside me was incredible. It made me lose all sense. I pressed my body flush against his wanted only for our bodies to dance together in the middle of this large crowd.

One hand lightly traced my flaming cheeks while the other fisted in my dress, showing a surprising amount of restraint. Every other kiss in my life was suddenly wrong. Only this mattered. Only his lips could electrify me, making every vein buzz with excitement.

A light cough covered up the slight moan that escaped from me. I quickly pulled away from Zach, surprised at how close we were to ripping off each other's clothes right here in the middle of the ballroom. We were both breathless, eyes dark with wanting more.

But that wasn't the biggest problem at the moment. Josh was currently standing next to us looking more than a little uncomfortable.

"Hey, Josh," I said clearing my throat. I quickly fixed my dress and placed my teased hair behind my ears.

Zach held onto me, not letting me put the must needed distance between us. He looked Josh up and down with a gleam of disdain.

I bit my lip. Josh looked _good_.

His brown hair was the perfect description of nonchalant pretention. Stylishly messy like he just woke up but was expecting to meet Beyoncé. His eyes were the kind of blue that drew you in and promised everything was going to be okay. I remember looking into those eyes when we were young knowing that he'd always be there for me. They were the color of steadiness, the color I used to think was my future.

He wore a light blue colored shirt that I bought him for his birthday a couple of years ago under a blue blazer and nicely fitting tan pants. Clearly med school didn't stop him from working out. He aged like both George Clooney and Orlando Bloom did: refined and still hot.

"Hey, Cams," Josh said with the same sweet smile that had me wilting as a teenager. And even now, after all we've been through, it still had the power to weaken my knees. Attraction is like a magnet: no matter how much time has passed, it's still as strong as it was when two things first connect. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Zach snorted at that.

Josh ignored him. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, smiling again. My words had gone—couldn't find them. Luckily, Zach stepped in.

"So you're Jimmy?" he asked.

"Josh," Josh corrected politely.

"What do you do, Jimbo?" Zach asked.

"Um, Josh, actually. I'm currently completing my medical residency. Going to join the surgical team at Roseville Medical."

"Wow," I said, finally able to say something. "That's great."

The word "Roseville" snapped me back to attention. That's where Gallagher Academy was. That's where we first met. That's where Josh was born. And that's where he planned to stay. Forever.

That was one of the reasons Josh and I didn't belong together: he dreamt too small.

"So..." I said. Just to say anything really. The three of us had formed this awkward bubble that seemed to paralyze our vocal cords to only make comments about the weather and monosyllabic words of agreement.

"Um sorry, you are?" Josh held out his hand to Zach. Zach grabbed his hand and shook.

"Lawrence: Cammie's boyfriend," he said, squeezing hard on the last word. Josh winced and then pulled his hand away.

"He's my dentist!" I said, because apparently I needed to say something and that was what came out. I needed to somehow stop my verbal diarrhea.

"She had the best smile," Zach added, keeping our cover. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, mostly because I loved that line and was proud for coming up with it.

"Wow, well I'm glad to see that you're happy, Cams," Josh said, looking at me with such an adoring expression. Zach's arm tightened around me, and I was impressed by his commitment to the role. Not too long ago he was ready to run out on this whole operation, and now he was going above and beyond to prove he was an integral part of it. "Hey, Cam, do you mind if we talk in private for a bit?"

Zach immediately seemed to disagree with that idea. He made a noise of protest and moved me away from Josh. I untangled myself from his vice grip.

"Sure, Josh," I said, taking his arm. As we walked towards the outside, I glanced back at Zach. I sent him a reassuring smile. He didn't need to act mad anymore. Josh wasn't even looking at him. But I guess he was just staying in character.

Josh and I walked out onto the patio area. It overlooked the hotel's lake and was lit up by twinkly lights. The whole area was aglow with a soft yellow light. I wrapped my arms around myself, chilled by the wind. Josh, seeing this, took off his suit jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I smiled at him gratefully.

We stared at the shimmering lake for a bit. The orange and pink sky blended with the water's blue.

"So, Josh, what's up?" I asked.

"Are you two serious?" Josh asked suddenly, not looking from the lake.

"Um," I tried thinking back to our cover story. Had we said "I love you" yet? I mean I did take him to meet the entire family, so I guess that was bordering on moving-in territory. "Yeah?"

Josh's face scrunched at that, clearly not reading my hesitation.

"I'm happy for you," he said, finally looking at me.

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Josh, you've always been a terrible liar," I said.

"I couldn't even keep your 20th birthday party a surprise for you," Josh added, with a chuckle.

I laughed along, thinking about the memory.

"You tried your best with that one," I said.

"I told you we had to go home because I forgot my clogs. I don't even own clogs!" he said.

We laughed together.

"I gave you the benefit of doubt," I said teasingly.

"You were always good at doing that," he said.

I frowned. The playful mood shifted. He didn't say it callously, but still it stuck with me. It almost sounded like I was a bit of a pushover.

"I shouldn't have let you go," he said quietly.

I mean I was nice to people, but I didn't let them walk all over me, right? I glanced at Josh. He was looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry. Did you say something?" I asked a bit sheepishly.

"Um just that your sister and Paul look really happy," he said, clearing his throat. I looked at him funnily. He was clearly lying, but what did he really say before—I was too caught up thinking about my flaws.

I tilted my head. "Oh yeah. They are—sorry, why did you want to talk to me out here?"

Josh turned to me and smiled.

"Just wanted to talk to you away from your shadow," he said. I frowned at his reference to Zach. "That guy is like all over you."

"Yeah that's what boyfriends are for," I said with a tight smile.

"Right. Well I'll let you get back to him."

He began to walk away.

"I heard about you and DeeDee," I said quickly, wincing after it slipped out of my mouth.

Josh stopped. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned around. The awkwardness surrounded us like a vice.

"Uh... sorry to hear that," I finished, holding my arm.

Josh forced a smile.

"It just didn't work out," he said, with a small shrug.

I nodded. I wanted more than that. Our engagement was broke off because of her, and they weren't even together anymore? I'd be more okay with DeeDee being his true love and I was the unfortunate obstacle in the way. But no. She was just a fling, and I was just someone never worth marrying.

"I'm going to get back," I said, handing him back his blazer.

Josh looked like he wanted to stop me. But it was Josh. And so he didn't. I walked back inside the bubbling party, numb to all the excitement around me. I scanned the room looking for the waiters with tempting trays of champagne. One walked right by me, but before I could grab two flutes, Helen intercepted me.

"Hello, Cameron. Lovely to see you again," she said. Her black hair was pulled back so tightly, it looked like a homemade face lift. Her eyes were still as beady and judgy as ever, and her hooked nose seemed to get in the way of her looking down on people.

"Hello, Helen. I trust you're doing well?" I asked with a polite smile. Raging, life-long, mother feud aside, I was still bitter about failing Decorum and Refined Mannerisms class. How many wrong ways were there to sip a cup of tea?

"As always. My daughter Tina, you remember Tina, don't you dear? Top of the class at Gallagher Academy, went to Columbia to study Law?"

I stifled an eye roll. Everyone knew Tina. But everyone who knew her didn't trust her as far as they could throw her. She was the biggest gossip of our school. She knew everything and could cut through cotton-candy thickets of rumors as well as she could create them. Needless to say, you didn't ever tell Tina anything you didn't want on page five of the school newsletter. It figured she decided to become a lawyer. Lawyers know everything about spinning tales. She actually worked for Macey's firm, and they were currently competing to be named partner. Macey hated her.

"Yes, of course. How is she?"

"Most prominent as usual. She just won a very important case involving a state senator," Helen said proudly.

"Oh was the senator the innocent one?" I asked, not being able to help myself for the dig. Most of Tina's cases involved sleezy people that probably didn't deserve the innocence but could afford it.

"Of course," Helen bristled. "Tina would never take advantage of the justice system like that. I don't appreciate the insinuation."

As luck would have it, Zach appeared at that very moment. To my surprise he placed a chaste kiss on my cheek, which only served to make my entire body flush with heat. Despite the conversation with Josh, my body was still reacting to that kiss like the ghost vibrations you felt after being on a roller coaster.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Helen. Just a small joke," I managed to say, despite the internal movie playing in my head of Zach bending me over the nearest table, Helen be damned.

"It's a pity you hadn't paid attention in my class. You would've learned proper jokes for a young lady." With a tight smile and barely even a glance at Zach, she walked away.

"Well she seemed like a delight," Zach said with a chuckle. I laughed.

"Oh just the best. That's the infamous Helen," I said in a mock whisper.

"Funny, I didn't notice the horns," Zach added teasingly, while squinting at her retreating figure.

"The hair hides them."

We both laughed quietly. I couldn't bare stand so close to him at the moment, so I politely stepped to the side. Clearing my throat, I said, "The luncheon is almost over. We could sneak away soon. I could definitely use a nap."

I tried not to entertain the idea of us being together in the close-quartered room, but the thought of accidental grazes leading to passionate and purposeful touches made me quiver.

"We have to share a room thanks to my devious mother, but I was assured the room had separate beds," I added. I placed a strand of hair behind my ear. I still hadn't made eye contact with him. I was worried what his eyes might betray: disgust at my earlier groping of him or happiness at the added bonus he might be incurring.

"How was your talk with Jimmy?" he asked. The note in his voice surprised me. I finally glanced at him and saw he was zeroing in at Josh. Josh was currently sitting at the bar, eyes fixed on Belinda. As was half the other guests. She was currently dancing with some of her sorority sisters in a provocative and certainly not appropriate at a family function right before your wedding kind of way. I rolled my eyes at her behavior. She always did need to be the center of attention.

"It was fine. Why?" I asked.

Zach finally looked at me. He was the perfect figure of nonchalant indifference.

"No reason. You just looked upset when you walked in."

Oh yeah. Josh had insinuated I was a pushover. I didn't know how much bearing that had. Sure, I did the occasional favor for people, even if it was a bit out of my way. But that didn't mean anything. I fought for what I wanted. One time, Macey wanted to watch this boring documentary on steak but I wanted to watch Say Yes to the Dress. And I won control of the remote because of my insistence and lack of pushover _ness_.

Oh wait... No we ended up watching the steak documentary. I remember because that night Macey dragged me to the butchers so we could pick out the perfect steaks to fire up. To be fair, I was happy we watched the documentary. Those steaks were damn fine—perfect amount of marbling.

My mouth started watering. Of course my fat ass would still be hungry, even after that extensive lunch. Although to be fair, I spent more time pushing food around my plate than actually eating it. My fear of ripping the seams of my bridesmaid's dress tomorrow was too real. And of course the crippling anxiety that I was going to slip up or someone was going to recognize Zach and our cover would be blown. That would put anyone off salmon en croute.

I sighed, ignoring my hunger for anything deep fried and salty. After saying some goodbyes to my mother and promising to get a drink with Bex in an hour, we headed up to our hotel room. When we were alone in the elevator, we fell into a horrible silence. We stood on opposite sides of the elevator, a wide berth of space and tension between us. I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. Zach was probably wondering if I was going to attack him again. I had to put his mind at ease, while also subtly indicating that there will be no extra costs incurred on this trip.

"About before," I started.

Zach cleared his throat.

"I just wanted you to know, um I'm not usually like that. It's just that Josh was there and... well," I stumbled trying to find the words. I didn't want him to think I was desperate for a romp in the sheets, but saving my dignity wasn't coming out so smoothly.

"Look, I'm here to make the ex jealous. And I think we accomplished that," Zach said. His voice held an edge to it, but I might have been imagining it.

Honestly I didn't even care about Josh. Seeing him again made me realize how over the whole thing I actually was. Josh and I weren't right for each other. The way he went about realizing that still made me want to thump him over the head because getting cheated on sucks. But I realized that I didn't need Zach to make Josh jealous because I didn't care anymore. Granted, I was still happy he was around because he made my mother's happiness go through the roof.

Before I could explain my revelation, the elevator doors opened. We walked to our room, and when we entered, I could've strangled my mother.

"Oh my god!" I yelped mortified.

Zach, damn him, found the whole thing humorous.

"Wow, your mother isn't subtle is she?"

On our massive, _singular_ bed were rose petals surrounding a basket of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't against the strawberries. Everything else, though, was completely out of line. I grabbed the hotel phone and dialed the front desk.

"Don't touch that," I snapped at Zach, who was reaching for the champagne. "It's all going back and I'm getting us a proper room—hello? Hi, yes I'm in room 108 and it seems there's been some kind of mistake. I was assured there'd be two separate beds and there's only one—uh huh. Yeah." I rolled my eyes. "Of course. Thank you."

I hung up the phone frustrated. I turned to Zach. He was laying on the rose petals, hands behind his head, eyes closed.

"Did you get it fixed, dear?" he asked. A small smile played on his lips.

"No. As it turns out, my mother booked us a single room and not a double room. Double rooms have two beds. Single rooms," I gestured around us. "Do not. And every other room is booked. I guess I can find another hotel close by one of us can stay at..."

At this suggestion, Zach opened his eyes.

"Seriously? You want to pay for another room so we don't have to share a bed? Do I smell bad or something?" he asked with a smile.

"No it's not you it's..." _I can't trust myself to be so close to you._ I sighed. "I'll just sleep on the floor."

"I'll take the floor, Gallagher Girl," he said with valiance.

"No, no. It's fine. I don't mind," I added hastily. I hated the idea of him being put out like that because of my insecurities. Zach rolled his eyes.

"I insist. And considering you're paying me to be a chivalrous gentleman, you shouldn't feel bad about it," he added. "I'm going to hop in the shower." That promptly ended that conversation, although I was going to bring it up again when we actually went to sleep.

I sat on the bed. The rose petals were soft under my touch like tissues of silk. The door of the bathroom was cracked, but the hinges must've been oiled down recently because the door opened more. I tore my eyes from the thin curtain badly shielding Zach's naked, wet body from me.

Instead, I read the warning label on the back of the champagne bottle. When the faucet turned off, I didn't have any more words to look at. But if I looked for something else to keep me distracted, then I'd risk accidentally (ahem, on purpose) sneaking a peak at Zach.

I heard the shriek of the shower curtain. _Don't look up. Don't look up._ I peaked behind the champagne bottle.

Zach had just wrapped himself in a towel, covering his lower half. But his muscular back was exposed, and my eyes raked every inch of it. Droplets of water clung to his tan back, creating a sheen that highlighted the curvature of his muscles. I bit my lip and fisted my hands. All I wanted was to run my nails down his back, feel his warm flesh under my hands.

He turned slightly.

"I thought I shut this," he started. Then his eyes met mine. I wasn't sure what he saw—probably some crazy woman lusting at him. But he held my gaze as the intensity built between us. This so wasn't easing him off the idea that I would pay to sleep with him. But I decided to enjoy the moment, forgetting about the saving-face I'd have to do later.

Just then the phone rang. I broke the sultry eye contact and answered. When I looked back, Zach had closed the door. I sighed.

"Hello?"

Bex voice came across the line. "Cammie, Liz and Jonas are here. Let's go get wasted."

* * *

 **Don't you just love the tension between them? Tell me all what you think? Review!**


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